The Daughter
by darkmark111
Summary: When Lily marries James, Severus is left to care for the illegitimate daughter.
1. Prelude

The summer was fresh, like the pages of a newly opened book, the virgin spine not yet bent with hours of dedicated study. The trees flourished under the hot Scottish sun and the water of the lake shone like rippled glass, glittering with light. Students, with their shirts untucked and their ties undone, roamed endlessly across the lush grounds. They basked in the warmth and joy that came from the end of their seventh year exams. This period of elation came every year for most students, but not all of them.

_Naive little twits_, Severus Snape thought, running his long, pale fingertips along the windowsill on the fourth floor. The stone, miraculously, had not soaked up the dizzying heat of the summer day. He caressed the cold still, the movement losing importance to the depth of his thoughts. His hand automatically moved to his forearm, where his skin was forever branded with the mark of his slavery. Even in the midst of such stifling humidity, he shivered.

He heard the quiet knock immediately and turned toward the door. There were not many who knew of his private study, which he had adopted from an abandoned classroom; they were, he thought, a privileged few. Nevertheless, he knew exactly which visitor to expect today. He clutched at his forearm with even greater tension.

"Enter," he called, his voice low and cold, masking pain that had been eating at him for months.

And there she was, a vision in gray; her red hair was on fire, as hot as the day itself, and her green eyes shown through like emeralds among ruby. Her sweet skin, her sweet succulent skin that had once been his to touch – a far away beauty once again. Her body never failed to stir the senses, and her speech never failed to agitate the mind. Severus swallowed hard.

"Hello, Severus," She said, smiling tentatively, reaching out to grasp his hand with her dainty, slender fingers. He recoiled without thinking.

"Good afternoon, Lily," Severus stiffly replied, delving deep into her trusting pool-like eyes. She realized what he was doing and blinked hard. When she opened her eyes Severus was displeased to see that her eyebrows met at a defined line in the middle of her forehead and her eyes had turned fiery with anger.

"I know what you're doing, and you'd better stop," She snapped. "I've come here to talk to you, not to be searched. You should know me better than to suspect that I would dream of lying to you."

Severus blinked. "If you wish to say something, you had best get on with it," He replied acidly. "I have other pressing matters to attend to."

Lily reached for the bottom of her cardigan. Severus watched closely, just the least bit uneasy. A sweat broke on his sallow palms as she began to pull the cardigan up over her belly. It came off with her tie and she stood before him, breasts swaying and abdomen exposed. Severus found that he could not meet her eyes.

Her belly was swollen in pregnancy, and her breasts appeared enlarged and ready for the child. From what Severus had seen in anatomy books, he could guess that she was at least eight months along. It was now apparent that she had been hiding it with charms put on her clothes and various glamour spells. When he looked up at her, her eyes were rimmed with tears.

"Why..." he began shakily, fighting himself not to bellow. "...did you not tell me sooner?"

"I'm sorry," her face crumpled and tears spilled down her pretty cheeks. "I didn't want to upset you."

"THE ONLY POTION I FAILED TO CORRECTLY CONCOCT IN MY ENTIRE ADOLESCENT LIFE LEAD DIRECTLY TO THAT UNBORN CHILD AND YOU WERE AFRAID OF UPSETTING ME?" Severus screamed, no longer thinking of restraint. His sallow skin had taken on an unpleasant pink tinge, which was slick with perspiration. Lily crumpled below his maddened gaze and his heart wrenched with pain.

"I'm so s-sorry, Severus," Lily sobbed, clutching her round stomach. She sunk to her knees with her head bowed. "I know I should've told you. I know. And this...this is precisely why I didn't."

Severus turned towards the window. His fingernails were making bloody half-moons in his palm, but he took no notice. He would only remember later when he would find blood on his robes.

_We were children_, he thought. _Children having children._

He turned to her suddenly. His stomach somersaulted when he saw her flinch, as if she expected him to strike her. Severus kept his distance but relaxed his posture.

"I can still get rid of it. A simple potion is all - "

"No!" Lily cried, clutching still at her orb-like belly. "You will not harm this child."

Again, Severus swallowed, though his mouth and throat were as dry as parchment. "And how to do plan to hide this - _child_ - from Potter?" he choked on the word, hardly believing it applied. But it did.

Lily swept past him, not meeting his gaze and stood three feet from the window, crossing her arms over her bare chest. "I'll go away and have it, and then we can decide together. You and I, Severus," She added when she saw him stiffen.

"You know as well as I that I am in no position to raise a child," Severus said. Lily turned to him, eying him with something like hatred.

"Yes. Because whomever would want a Death Eater for a daddy?" She spat bitterly. This time, Severus almost did hit her – and was stopped only by the burning of his forearm. He grasped it and hissed.

"You simpering wench," Severus snarled, still fighting the searing pain. "You leave me in disgrace to run to your new Quidditch playboy lover and you come sprinting back when the product of our coupling is too much to ignore. That isn't exactly the sort of courage Gryffindor so audaciously boasts."

"You could've had me, had you bothered to care!" Lily shouted, now reaching the point of hysterics. "You are so damned _cold_, Severus! So callous and inhuman and unfeeling! You are empty inside to me. You are nothing. You...you disgust me."

Lily yanked her cardigan carelessly back over her head and left the room in a hurry. Severus was left to stand at his place by the window, staring down upon his peers and again damning them for their innocence. He knew he had sabotaged his only chance with her, and soon he would be faced with the product of what he once had and never would again.

Severus ran his fingers along the windowsill. This was not, of course, the first or even the second time he had considered jumping.

_I felt, and it was destroyed,_ Severus thought.

_I will never feel again._


	2. Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

The days came early and the nights ended late. Sage was the very image of Lily, red hair and all. She sat on the wooden counter in the kitchen of his three-room flat, laughing and playing with herbs he had given her as he brewed potions for his private stock at Hogwarts. Her chubby cheeks were rosy with cheer as she tore apart parsley, thyme and rosemary. Severus sighed and stared at his daughter, slightly obscured from the vapors rising from his Healing Draught.

"Daddy?" she asked, giggling. The one-and-a-half year old collected the pieces of her destroyed herbs and threw them in the air like confetti. His heart was heavy with both love and loathing. She clapped her hands and laughed, oblivious to the bits of rosemary and thyme stuck in her hair.

Fighting a smile, Severus reached out and brushed the herbs from her head.

"This counter top is no place for an infant. You are to return to your bassinet at once," He said. Severus took her in his arms and, placing a tentative kiss on her smooth forehead, laid her in her cradle next to his bed.

Sage fell asleep almost immediately. He went back to the kitchen and was in the process of preparing her milk and mashed pumpkin when there was a knock on the door.

Severus grasped his wand, eying the front door suspiciously. "Who's there?"

"It's Lily, Severus," She said quietly. She seemed to be trying to keep her voice down.

Severus mentally kicked himself. He had forgotten it was her day to come and see Sage. He had gotten so wrapped up in his potion...

He opened the door and was astounded at how pale she looked. Her hair was dulled, and her eyes looked clouded with worry. Without warning, she came forward and embraced him. Severus closed his eyes and relished in the feel of her body against his, the floral smell of her skin. All too soon, she let go and walked past him into the flat, glancing around.

"You're unwell," Severus stated. He went to the kitchen to get two cups and saucers down from the cupboard.

Lily turned and smiled wanly. "I have been better."

"Do you care for tea?" Severus asked. He had already poured himself a cup.

"Yes, thanks," Lily murmured, peering curiously into the cauldron, which was steaming on the counter top. "Making something?"

"A healing potion," Severus replied, handing her her tea. "I find it wise to be prepared."

At that Lily's face darkened, and he knew they were thinking the same thing.

"Voldemort is hunting us," Lily whispered. Severus put his tea down even though his mouth suddenly felt dry.

"I'm aware." He watched her hand shake as she lifted the tea to her white lips. "It was unwise for you to come here unaccompanied, Lily."

"I had to see my daughter," Lily replied curtly. Severus nodded.

"She is in my room, sleeping."

Lily abandoned her tea and went towards the bedroom with Severus close behind her. Sage was breathing softly, her tiny palms facing the ceiling. Her head turned slowly toward their footsteps, but her eyes did not open. Lily reached into the crib and ran her hand over the baby's stomach, smiling warmly.

"Now that she's learned to talk, she is determined not to allow me to enjoy my silence," Severus muttered, sounding more bitter than he actually was. Lily laughed softly.

"My beautiful Sage. How I wish I could be here all the time." Severus' eyes flickered to Lily, who met his gaze with hesitance. Their faces were close, their breath mingling in the warm air of the flat.

_How I wish the same_, Severus thought. He found himself focused only on her lips, now warmed by the tea and her heart-felt smile. They were pink and sensual, shaped like Cupid's bow. He remembered how they felt, how they tasted. Better than any woman he had since courted.

"I have missed you, Severus," Lily whispered. He could smell her scent all around him; it was driving him mad. The woman he had loved, married to another now, so far out of reach. And yet, she was here, right next to him, so close to his mouth that if he moved but another inch their skin would meet. He could say nothing in reply. It was all too much.

In one swift motion, Severus slipped his hand around the back of Lily's neck and pressed his lips to hers. The love that he had held in his heart for the better part of five years bloomed in sudden beauty. It withered just as quickly when she pulled away, a deep frown present on her pretty face.

"I'm married," she told him. Her eyes widened when his eyes narrowed and a venomous sneer flashed on his face, crumpling what joy he had briefly experienced.

"How dare you humiliate me again," Severus snapped. "How dare you...how dare you _tease _me like this!"

"_Tease you_? Having a conversation is not teasing, Severus. I should have known this would happen." Sage had awoken and was now in the midst of a tearful fit. Lily snatched her from the cradle and bounced her up and down in her arms, concerned and upset. "Am I not allowed to say I've missed you without implying something sexual?"

Severus was shaking with anger. There was so much he wanted to say but so little he was willing to admit to. He took Sage from her arms and brought her hurriedly into the kitchen to feed her. When Sage was safely in her feeding chair, Severus began to ready the milk. Lily followed and stood with her arms crossed, looking agitated.

"Really, Severus, I don't see why you're always acting this way - "

Severus seized a bottle of feverfew and sent it hurtling to the floor. Lily stepped back in shock as slivers of glass came to rest at her boots.

"Get out of my house."

"I'm taking Sage, then. You are in no state - "

"I SAID GET OUT!" Severus bellowed, causing Sage to howl even louder. Lily looked at Sage with a look that clearly read, _I'm so sorry_. Severus turned back to the milk and only dared to look over his shoulder when he heard the front door slam. He gave the milk to Sage, which calmed her immediately from howls to sniffles, and looked out the window down onto the street, where a red-haired woman was running to the other side.

Their eyes met briefly before she disappeared, and for the first time, Severus doubted whether he would ever see Lily again.


	3. Seasons to Cycles

Sage was wearing her prettiest green dress, the one that was usually reserved for days about the town. It was velvet and tied around the waist with a black ribbon. She looked up at Severus with her three-year-old eyes – which happened to match the dress perfectly – and smiled. Severus smiled back, holding her tiny hand in his. With his other hand, he knocked sharply on the door. He was not even aware of the sweat on his palm.

The door opened to reveal Lily, Harry in one hand and wand in the other. She lowered it to her belt when she saw Severus and Sage and smiled warmly.

"Severus, what a pleasant surprise!" She laughed, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. His skin warmed and flushed at her touch. Lily leaned down, placing her palms on her thighs, and grinned at Sage. "And how is my darling little girl?"

"Mummy!" Sage cried, rushing forward on her wobbly toddler legs and hugging as much of Lily as she could. Lily laughed again. "Missed you, Mummy!"

"And I have missed you, love," Lily said, bending down to kiss her forehead. "Would you like to play with Harry's toys?"

Sage squealed, and Lily lead her inside to the living room with Severus in tow. Lily carefully placed Harry in his playpen and then seized Sage by the armpits and put her inside. The adults watched the little ones play with Harry's magic blocks for a bit (they were specially made for teething; each time one of them put a block in their mouth, it turned into a sponge or another soft object) then sat on the twin love seats in the next room, facing each other for the first time in months.

Lily's face was grave. Severus wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, but he kept his posture stiff and his face stony.

"I suppose you've heard?" he asked. Lily pursed her lips.

"The whole Order knows. However, you're quite a good liar, Severus...I know longer know what to believe." Severus saw Lily lift a glass of brandy from the end table and take a generous sip.

"I want to protect you, Lily." It took a great deal of effort for Severus to keep his voice from shaking. She appeared to ignore him.

"Brandy?"

"I'd prefer scotch."

"Scotch it is," Lily said, getting to her feet to fetch the bottle from the high shelf at the other end of the room. She flicked her wand and a glass appeared in her hand. As she poured the scotch, Severus noticed that her mane of red was lined with several silver hairs. He shivered when he realized how terrified she must have been.

Lily handed him the glass and sat on the love seat, staring at him intently. She was searching for something in his eyes, searching for the answer. Severus, determined not to feel uncomfortable, returned her gaze. The silence, broken only occasionally by the laughter coming from the children in the next room, was pregnant with meaning.

"Why did you lie to me before, Severus? Why did you tell me that you were a double agent from the beginning?"

"I'm only human, Lily," Severus said sternly. "If I had told you I had sought Voldemort out of my own interests, would you have had anything more to do with me?"

"God, of course not." Lily shuddered, taking another swig of brandy. Severus glared at her.

"It was only that way at the beginning. I was embittered by your courtship with James and I found comfort only in the darkness that my father had always bathed me in. The Dark Lord promised change, revolution, cleansing. The darker, normally dormant side of me resumed control.

"When I became one of his servants, I knew that I had chosen the wrong path. I knew I had made a grave mistake. I knew I had lost all trust and credibility. I yearned to redeem myself but I knew I had to wait until I could gain the Dark Lord's trust. At least then, I reasoned, I could make something useful from my blunder," Severus explained, never looking away from Lily's eyes. Though she still appeared reproachful, she seemed to accept it.

"I see," Lily said, staring down at the carpet. Severus's eyes narrowed.

"You still do not believe me?"

"I never said that!" Lily looked up, alarmed. "I hope you didn't come here looking to have a row, Severus. If you did, you can leave now. I'm not in the mood."

"That isn't it at all," he replied, shaking his head. "I wanted to properly explain myself."

"And so you did," Lily murmured. They sat in silence for some time, sipping their alcohol thoughtfully and listening to the children. It was broken only when the front door swung open and abruptly slammed. Severus and Lily instinctively reached for their wands when James stepped through the threshold.

"Snape?" James sneered, staring at Severus with a mix of confusion and contempt. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Before Severus could explain, James turned to the playpen. "And who's the girl?"

"My niece," Severus replied coldly. The tension in the air was tangible. "I've come to speak to Lily about Order business."

"It's news to me if that's really any of your business at all," James coolly replied, hanging his cloak on the coat hanger next to him. "The last I heard, you were answering to Voldemort."

Severus hissed, and Lily glared angrily at her husband. "James, Dumbledore told us that Severus has remained loyal to him, and it will do you well to remember that."

"Yes, Potter. I must say I agree with your wife," Severus spat. He downed the rest of his scotch in one go and set the glass firmly on the end table. "If you'll excuse me, I must be going. Sage and I have other matters that require attendance."

"Oh, so soon?" James sarcastically inquired. "What a shame. I was just about to invite you to come kill off some poor, innocent Muggles with me."

"James!" Lily cried in shock and anger. She stood glowering at her husband as Severus crossed the room to fetch Sage. He found her with a stuffed caterpillar in her mouth, standing at the side of the pen. He heard Lily call his name and turned to see her crossing the room.

"Severus," she said again. "I'm sorry for what he said. It was - "

"It was rather like being back at school, I'd say," Severus finished coldly. "No matter." He put Sage on the floor next to him and turned back to Lily. "Say goodbye to your mother, Sage."

"Bye-bye, Mummy!" Sage called, curling her little palm into a wave. Severus thought he saw tears in Lily's eyes as she bent down, picked Sage up and spun her around in the air, trying to smile.

"Will you be Mummy's brave little girl and be good for Daddy?" she asked, showering the toddler with Eskimo kisses. Sage smiled.

"Oh yes," she replied. "Love you."

Lily pulled Sage into a hug and a tear rolled down her cheek. "I love you too, darling. Have fun with Daddy." Severus opened the door and Lily put Sage down, only to see her tear into the front yard in a fit of joy, pulling the petals off of flowers and jumping at butterflies. Severus turned to Lily, noting an undertow of finality in their parting. Their eyes met wordlessly.

"This feels too complete for me, I'm afraid," Lily whispered. Severus nodded. "Every day feels shorter and more dangerous to live through. I don't know how much longer..." She stopped, collected herself and went on.

"If it weren't for James and Harry, I don't know how I'd hold myself together. And Sage, of course." She was wringing her hands absentmindedly. Without thinking, Severus took hold of both of them.

"You'll worry yourself into insanity if you keep this up," he told her. "You have over a dozen people keeping watch on you and working towards your safety. Relax."

Lily smiled. "You always know the right things to say, Severus. I've always loved that about you." They looked down, blushing, their fingers now intertwined. She looked up at him again, her eyes alight with emerald fire.

"If for some reason I don't see you again..." Lily whispered. She stared deeply into his eyes before closing her own and leaned forward. Within seconds he felt her sweet lips on his. It was something he had yearned to feel again for the better part of two years. He slipped his hands through her soft hair and deepened the kiss.

She pulled away abruptly, looking flustered and ashamed. Her long eyelashes swept her flushed cheeks. Lily leaned towards his ear, her lips trembling with emotion.

"You know I will always love you," She said, so quietly that it was hardly audible.

"And you know I have always loved you, Lily," Severus whispered in return. He inhaled her wonderful rose perfume once more before averting his eyes and leaving Lily with goodbye for what would be the final time.

As it was, the day that Severus went to visit was the last day that the Potter house stood.

Severus's next door neighbor in the apartment building, an old Slovakian widow who had lived there for the better part of thirty years, awoke abruptly to a loud rapping on the door. She put on a pair of warn-out carpet slippers and stumbled to the door in the dark.

Severus was about to knock again when the door opened. He put down his fist.

"Mr. Snape? Vhat are you doing here in ze middle of ze night?" She asked, squinting at him. His daughter was sobbing in his arms, clad only in a white nightgown.

"Ms. Cervenka, I need you to watch Sage for several hours. There's been an emergency and I cannot take her with me," Severus said desperately.

"Do you know vhat time it is? I -"

"Yes, yes, I know!" Severus impatiently shouted. "I must go now, Ms. Cervenka!"

"Alright, alright, give me ze child," Ms. Cervenka muttered. She took Sage, who was now wailing, and was about to turn back to Severus and question him further about the situation when she saw he had gone.

Severus could see the fire from the street he had Apparated on to, and in that moment, he knew he was too late.

He tore down the street through throngs of wizards and Muggles alike, his wand hidden in his shirtsleeve. He could feel the heat of the inferno from fifty feet away. The last of the charred boards were falling away, and he knew there was no hope. He could not save his love.

Severus saw Hagrid emerging from the flames with a bundle in his enormous arms. He ran to him, dodging flaming pieces of lumber that were raining from the house. The wind was picking up again.

"Hagrid! Are they alive?" Severus shouted. Hagrid was weeping, his tears splattering on the child's face, making clean tracks on his soot covered cheeks. Severus knew the answer.

"The didn' make it, Snape. Only Harry 'ere, I dunno how..." Hagrid began to sob. Harry was squirming in his blanket, fussing softly. Severus turned away. He didn't want to see the boy.

Before he knew what was happening, he had fallen unconscious to the hot earth. Severus was at the mercy of the night.

When Severus awoke, the sun was blazing and Aurors were questioning wizards and Muggles on the street. Someone was poking him. He glared up at a boy who appeared to be about six years old. The boy was rather intent on poking his ribs with a sharpened stick.

"Get out of here!" Severus snapped angrily. The boy jumped.

"Just checkin' if you was alive, mister. Blimey." The boy turned and went on his way, tapping his stick on the ground. Severus turned over on his back to see two Aurors walking casually towards him. His squinted in the sun. He got to his feet as steadily as he could manage and began walking towards the ruins of the house he had set foot in only twenty-four hours prior.

All that remained were blackened boards and charred soil. He knelt down and sifted the dirt in his fingers, thinking of his love, who was now one with the earth. He thought of Sage, who would have to understand that her mother had been murdered and live with it. He thought of Harry, who would grow up an orphan. Severus clenched the dirt in his hands with an anger deeper than he had ever felt, as though his very blood was boiling. He scattered in in the wind and watched it fall.

"Excuse me, sir, may we have a word with you?" A voice said behind him. Severus didn't turn around. He spotted something glinting in the soil, something that had been left somewhat undamaged by the fire, it seemed. He reached for it with shaking fingers, which were now caked in dirt.

It was Lily's wedding ring. He brushed off the dirt and watched it sparkle in the sun.

"Er...sir?" The Aurors persisted. He ignored them still. This ring had been on her finger only hours ago. He clasped in his hand and then glanced at it again. Engraved in it was the legend:

_I will always love you._

He ran his thumb over the words and his earnest tears, withheld for so long, promptly flooded the engraving. That moment was one of the few in Severus's life during which he lost all control to his emotions.

"Lily..." He mouthed, stiff with grief, weeping freely. His jaw stretched in a silent scream as he held the ring close to his heart. "Lily..."

The Aurors turned away as the man wept on his knees, a vision of pity in the unrelenting afternoon sun.


	4. Time is a Runaway

On the eve of Sage's fifth birthday, Severus took her to his place of birth; Spinner's End, in an old brick row house on the banks of the river. His knees felt weak even looking at Snape Manor. It was true that his father, Tobias, was sick and feeble, but his accuracy with a bull whip was unearthly.

"Daddy, where are we?" Sage asked, staring reproachfully at the desolate brick house. He grasped her hand.

"This is where I grew up," Severus explained. "I want you to meet your grandparents. My parents."

"Will they give me sweets?" Sage asked, sucking on her fingers. Severus smirked.

"I wouldn't count on it, if I were you. Come now."

He carried her up the crumbling stone steps that lead up to the yard and put her down as they strode toward the porch. The door was mahogany, and thick enough to guard the threshold of a fortress. The bras knocker was in the shape of a serpent, fangs bared. Without hesitation, Severus took hold of it and knocked thrice. He recoiled when it hissed at him, writhing angrily in his grip.

"_Gehe zu blutigen Hölle_!" Came from within. Severus winced. His father only spoke German when he was in an especially foul mood.

The face of Tobias Snape appeared in front of them, sallow and lined with age. His nose was more severe than that of his son, and his eyes were colder, like icy black orbs. His eyes bulged when he saw Severus, then narrowed when he noticed Sage.

"_Junge_ ," Tobias addressed him coolly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'd like to see my mother, if that's alright, sir," Severus softly replied. Tobias grunted, and, after a moment of thought, stood aside and allowed Sage and Severus to enter the house.

The hall was barren of any decorum save for an old oriental rug which had been in the family for centuries and a book case of black wood, filled with dark artifacts that, together, amounted to several decades in Azkaban. Severus mused that his father was either stupid, senile, or egomaniacal to keep all of the artifacts in plain sight. He figured the latter.

Tobias lead him into the parlor, which was furnished with antique white velvet love seats and a small, engraved table dating back to the Renaissance. On the coffee table sat a stack of books (_Curses that Collapsed the Holy Roman Empire, Illegal Dragon Trade in Twentieth Century London, A Botanist's Guide to Fantastical Flora_) and a crystal heart-shaped vial filled with something that looked uncannily like absinthe. Sage reached for it, and in his impatience Severus slapped her wrist, causing her to cry out. When Tobias left to the room to fetch Eileen, Severus apologized and kissed the wrist of the child.

Severus quieted when he saw Sage's attention diverted. Tobias had returned with Eileen, who was sporting several small cuts on her left cheek, which appeared to have been caused by fingernails. She looked much older than when Severus had last seen her a year ago. Her mouth twitched into a half-smile and went forward to her son.

"Severus," she whispered, taking his cheeks in her cold hands. He smiled at her.

"Mother," he said. "How are you?"

Eileen tried to smile once more. "Well enough. Would you like to have a seat? I'll fetch Tiffy to make us some tea."

Severus took a seat next to his daughter on one of loveseats and Tobias and Eileen sat adjacent. Eileen removed a silver bell from the breast pocket of her dress and rang it. A small house elf – presumably Tiffy – appeared in the doorway.

"Missus rang for Tiffy?" Tiffy asked, fingering her tattered pillowcase

"Yes, Tiffy. Bring us some tea, if you please. Do not forget the milk or sugar," Eileen instructed.

The house elf nodded happily. "Yes, Missus." Tiffy disappeared from sight, and Eileen turned back to Severus and Sage.

"Severus, when are you going to tell us who the girl is?" Eileen stared curiously at the girl, who was looking at her rather blankly, her eyes glassy with mild fright. Severus inwardly sighed.

Just as Severus opened his mouth to speak, Tiffy came rushing in with the tea tray and set it on the coffee table with a clatter, causing everyone to start.

"Tiffy is sorry for the noise, Missus," Tiffy muttered, her eyes ashamed. "Enjoys your tea." When Tiffy had left the room, Severus began again.

"Mother, Father, this is my daughter, Sage," Severus said, his confidence waning. Sage smiled politely. Her smile withered to fear when she noticed Tobias glaring at her with acute antipathy.

"_Wertlos kind,_" He spat.

"Her mother – a witch – died several years ago," Severus noted. Eileen caught his gaze. She was staring at him as though he had struck her. Sage suddenly took her tea cup in one hand and her saucer in the other and began to sip from the cup delicately, her little pinky waving in the air. Tobias and Eileen Snape ignored this.

"And who might her mother be?" Eileen asked testily.

"Lily Potter," Severus replied. He loathed the fact that he had to fight to keep his composure around his parents. They were the only two people who could make him feel as weak as he really was.

"_Mudblut hure_!" Tobias barked. Severus turned angrily to him, his teeth bared.

"Silence!" He hissed. "If you're going to insult the mother of my child at least do so in English!"

"Do NOT take that tone with me, _schwächling_!" Tobias roared. "It humiliates me that you still require a lesson in respect."

Upset by the shouting, Sage burst into bewildered tears. Severus pursed his lips and closed his eyes tightly, attempting to contain his rage for the sake of the girl.

Eileen's pallid face was set in a grimace. "Perhaps it's best if we discuss this matter another time," She offered, her tone apathetic.

"This is not a "matter", this is my flesh and blood. Your flesh and blood! How dare you treat this as issue that can be swept under the rug." Severus stared at his mother with displeasure, the cries of his daughter echoing in his ears.

"There is no need," Tobias conceded, rising from his seat. "I am leaving, and when I return, I expect that you and your bastard daughter will have gone. _Zur Hölle mit dir_." Upon his departure, Tobias's knee crashed into the tea tray, causing the cups and saucers to cascade on to the floor. The sugar and milk coated the carpet in a sticky, white mess. Tobias roared with anger and stomped out of the room, limping slightly.

Eileen removed the bell from her pocket again and rang it furiously. "Tiffy! Clean up this mess immediately!"

The house elf appeared and began to gesture with her hands, using her magic to clean the carpet and mend the cracks in the cups and saucers. Severus sat glaring in silence as the elf diligently worked. He noticed that Sage was no longer crying.

"I would not have expected even Father to be so callous," Severus muttered bitterly. "He has obviously hardened with age."

"Though his remarks were harsh, his reaction was not uncalled for," Eileen informed him. "If you would have entered into the marriage we had arranged for you, this would not have happened."

"Damn it, Mother!" Severus snapped. "There was nothing for me in that marriage! The Carrow family is composed entirely of weak sycophants masquerading power and importance. Their standing with the Dark Lord is so minuscule that it is easily irrelevant. Their fortune has been squandered throughout the centuries by gambling, addiction, and poorly made decisions. Mother, you must admit, the Carrows had nothing to offer."

"There was potential!" Eileen rebutted. "And there was _pure blood_. Over the years, the Carrows had been nothing but generous to us, and when they made an offer of marriage, what choice had I but to accept? You disgraced us by violating the contract, Severus. How dare you come here now with the daughter of some Mudblood woman, expecting warmth and support?"

"I expect your acceptance," Severus informed her. "Nothing more."

Much to his surprise, Sage leapt down from the couch, agile as a cat, and went to her grandmother, taking her hand. Eileen looked down with guilt at the girl. Sage smiled, her lips red and cheeks rosy. Eileen hesitated for a moment, then pulled her hand away and averted her eyes.

"I think it's best if you take your leave," she said quietly.

Severus shot her the dirtiest look he could muster. "Goodbye, Mother. I suppose the next time I see you will be at your funeral."

Eileen stared at him, her mouth agape and eyes bulging in utter shock. Severus took Sage by the hand and lead her out of the house.

"Does she hate me, Daddy?" Sage asked as they walked briskly down the stone steps into the road.

"No, Sage," Severus said. He searched for more comforting words but could find none. He stopped abruptly and turned to the girl, then bent down and lifted her into his arms. His eyes met hers, the eyes of the woman he had loved, and he brushed her red hair from her face. It was braided, and the braid swung almost to her knees. He stroked it absentmindedly.

"I love you," Severus told her. _Even if no one else is willing to_, he thought, his heart aching for his child.

"I love you too," Sage smiled, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck and embracing him. He willed the tears in his eyes to disappear. His daughter was, quite possibly, the only person alive who cared for his well-being at all, aside from Dumbledore.

He pulled away and managed a smile, which felt so utterly foreign to his lips. "It's your fifth birthday tomorrow. Would you like to select a gift from Diagon Alley?"

Sage's face lit up, and Severus let her run in front of him, noting her shouts about toy wands, Ice Mice, and broomsticks. After he felt she had used up a significant portion of excess energy, he called her to the side of the road and summoned the Knight Bus.

The purple-colored double decker stopped suddenly in front of the both of them, the doors swinging open to reveal a tall, tan man with several gold earrings.

"Good morning sir, and welcome to the Knight Bus. My name is Joseph Ashwinder and I'll be your conductor today. We can take you anywhere you'd like to go. Do you have a destination in mind?" Joseph asked.

Severus helped Sage aboard and nodded to Joseph. "Diagon Alley."

"That'll be ten Sickles." Joseph said. Severus pulled a coin pouch out of his pocket and gave Joseph roughly a fifth of its contents. "Thanks."

Severus lead Sage to the middle of the first story and sat on a squishy armchair, allowing her to climb on his lap. She giggled with delight as the bus took off with a start. She kept herself entertained by staring out the window, fascinated by how fast the scenery was passing by. Severus ran his fingers through his hair, distracted by his burning anger towards his mother. He had thought that perhaps a granddaughter could melt her frigid heart, but he had been mistaken. He was jolted from his reverie when the bus came to a shuddering stop.

"Diagon Alley!" Joseph called. Severus and Sage walked to the front and exited the bus.

Diagon Alley was crowded, and Severus was reminded that he needed to find a job as soon as possible. Collecting and preparing ingredients and selling pre-made potions to the apothecary could pay the rent on his flat, but both he and Sage needed new clothes. He knew that he could transfigure them from cloth, but he lacked the skill and it took too much time and energy to even attempt. He also needed new potions equipment, for much of his was old and shoddy. Severus decided that once he purchased a present for Sage he would spend the remainder of his time in Diagon Alley hunting for employment.

Sage was easily satisfied. She became instantly attached to a toy broom that she found in Quality Quidditch Supplies. He payed three Galleons for the toy and carried it out on the shop in a long, rectangular box, ignoring Sage's cries to have it immediately.

As Severus placed his coin purse back into his pocket, he sighed dejectedly. He had only eleven Sickles left. He was about to take Sage into Coriander's Cafe for lunch when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Severus," Lucius Malfoy said, promptly removing his leather glove clad hand from Severus's shoulder. He had started to carry a walking stick, Severus noticed. "Fancy seeing you here." His wife Narcissa was carrying a blonde boy who appeared to be around the age of three. He was frowning angrily at his mother.

"Hello, Lucius. Narcissa," Severus nodded to the woman, who smiled politely in return. "Running errands?"

"We just came from Knockturn Alley, actually," Lucius said softly. He was staring at Sage, who looked frightened. "Narcissa was in dire need of new jewelry." He motioned to his wife's neck, which was adorned with an ornate emerald necklace.

"How resplendent," Severus replied, trying not to sound as apathetic as he felt.

"Thank you," Narcissa said. She bounced the toddler in her arms. "I don't believe you've met our son, Draco?"

"No, though Lucius did inform me of his birth," Severus said. The boy had the same cold gray eyes as his father. He realized that both Narcissa and Lucius were staring pointedly at Sage. He felt himself blanch, for he knew exactly what they were thinking: _Lily Potter_.

"This is my daughter, Sage," Severus said, irritated and, for the first time, frightened for both Sage and himself. Lucius smiled.

"Hello," Sage said to Lucius. He didn't even look at her.

"Severus, I'm hurt. I received neither a wedding invitation nor a birth announcement."

"That is because a wedding never took place," Severus replied coolly. "If you'll excuse me, I must continue with my business."

"Very well. Good day," Lucius said, leading Narcissa and Draco toward the Leaky Cauldron. Severus lead Page by the hand, glaring and muttering. Lucius had always known exactly how to intimidate him in the most discreet way possible. He wandered into the door of the apothecary and bumped into something tall and hairy.

"Severus?" the thing said. Severus recovered and looked up.

"Headmaster. I'm sorry. I was not paying attention to where I was going."

Dumbledore laughed. "Quite alright, my boy." He was holding what appeared to be sheep's testicles. Severus eyed them suspiciously.

"If prepared correctly, sheep's testicles have incredible healing properties," Dumbledore explained, a twinkle in his eye. "I'm doing my best to recover from the flu. The potions Poppy has supplied me with are helping, but I felt it necessary to seek out something a bit stronger."

"Indeed," Severus agreed. Dumbledore's eyes drifted down to Sage.

"Sage Evans?" he asked, smiling. Sage grinned up at him. "Young lady, did you swallow a Growth Potion? You have gotten so tall!"

Severus twitched with embarrassment. Dumbledore's ability to be utterly grandfather-like bothered him on occasion. Dumbledore turned back to Severus.

"Have you come to purchase potion ingredients?"

"Actually, I'm looking for more steady employment," Severus conceded. Dumbledore eyed him carefully.

"Did you not consider the job I already offered you, Severus?"

Severus held his gaze. "I did not, Headmaster. I -"

"It is water under the bridge, my boy," Dumbledore interrupted. That simple statement lessened the burden that Severus had clung to for so long. "The new semester is upon us. If you like, you can stay the remainder of the summer with Sage. However, come September she will likely have to stay elsewhere. I'm sure you understand."

Severus thought of his relatives in Greenwich, the Princes. They were distant, yes, but they were neither Neanderthals nor criminals. His cousin Brutus was a shopkeeper and dabbled in potion making. He was married but had no children of his own. Severus supposed he could contact him by owl; it wouldn't hurt to ask, after all. He was willing to be in debt to Brutus, as Brutus was someone he could trust. After a moment, he nodded.

"Thank you for the offer, Headmaster. I'll be grateful to accept the job."

Dumbledore smiled and clapped him briefly on the shoulder. "You'll make a valuable addition to our faculty. I will alert Filch to your employment."

"I'll arrive tonight, I think," Severus told him. "There will be few preparations, and my material possessions are numbered."

"We will expect you for dinner, then. Take care, Severus."

Dumbledore exited the apothecary, sheep's testicles in hand. Severus and Sage exited shortly after, Severus more elated than he had been in months.

By five that evening they were on the train to Hogwarts, and by seven they were standing at the gates.

"This will be our home until September," Severus said to Sage, who was staring curiously at the castle. "I expect you to be at your best behavior."

Sage nodded stoically. She had been unusually quiet since they had left Diagon Alley. Severus stared at her for a moment, then lead her through the gates.

---------

German to English translations:

Gehe zu blutigen Hölle "Go to bloody hell"  
Junge "boy"  
Wertlos kind "worthless child"  
Mudblut hure "mudblood whore"  
schwächling "weakling"  
Zur Hölle mit dir "To hell with you"


	5. Well Enough Alone

Thanks to my reviewers for pointing out the errors in German translations. I don't know German, I just let Google Language do the work for me. The translations will be corrected.

And, y'know, thanks to my reviewers just for being awesome. This story has a long way to go and I hope you'll stay along for the ride. Your feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

----

It was no longer the jet black that it had once been, but a dull, faded gray, like the color of old robes and roads that had been paved decades and decades ago. Some of the threat had gone out of it with the darkness; it was damn near demure. Severus stroked the tattoo thoughtfully, and shivered when he remembered the first time he had shown Lily. Her eyes had bulged in shock, then horror.

"_It's good to know that you've branded yourself with that elitist filth. At least now I can tell you apart from all the other murderers."_

Severus winced. Memories such as that one never seemed to dull as the years past. The words always cut him just as painfully as they day she had said them aloud.

"Daddy, what's that on your arm?"

Severus turned abruptly and yanked his sleeve down so quickly that it ripped.

"_Reparo,_" he muttered. "I spilled a pot of ink."

Sage smiled. "Silly."

"I was under the impression that you were more interested in your new toy broom than my clumsiness," Severus said, cocking an eyebrow at the child. She giggled.

"Yes, Daddy." Sage turned on heel, her new gray dress spinning around her, and took off toward the sitting room. She had been riding her broom in circles for the past hour in the tiny room and Severus was surprised she hadn't gotten sick.

"Perhaps we should take a walk down to the Quidditch Pitch?" Severus called. Sage's head popped out from behind the doorway. She nodded vigorously.

"Like this?"

"No, you silly girl. You aren't gripping it correctly - "

"Daddy, I'm trying!"

"And what have we discussed?" Severus glared at her. Sage was sulking, her long eyelashes sweeping her pale cheeks. "Trying will get you nowhere. You must i _succeed_ /i ."

"Yes, Daddy," Sage mumbled. She fidgeted on the broomstick.

"Now," Severus said in a calmer tone. "Sit with your spine straight, with your chin up, and with both hands on the front of the handle."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Now push off with your feet."

Sage obediently pushed. The broom sailed seven feet or so into the air. Sage grinned and giggled with pleasure.

"Look, Daddy! I can do it!"

"Well done," Severus allowed her a small smile. "Don't go too high."

Sage smiled and zoomed in circles, going into daring dives toward the ground and pulling up just in the nick of time. Severus watched her with a combination of wonder, admiration and fear.

_I'm going to have a bloody heart attack if she gets any closer to the ground,_ he thought.

"Stop that foolishness immediately! You'll hurt yourself!"

Sage was going as high as the broom would allow, which was fourteen or fifteen feet; the maximum elevation of the toy varied with height and weight. Though Sage was tall for her age, she was skinny like Severus had been, and lithe like Lily. As he passively wondered whether she was getting enough food, out of the corner of his eye he watched her try for a loop.

"Daddy- " She cried. In a slow arc her body fell toward the ground, dress fluttering in the wind, red hair a flickering flame in contrast to the green grass. Severus urged his broom forward to catch her, but her arms could not reach. She fell to the ground with a dull thump and he rushed to the ground to collect her in his arms.

"Sage?" He yelled, slapping her cheek with his hand. She seemed to be unconscious. "Goddammit." He gasped. He did not notice himself breaking into a dull sweat, and he did not notice the purple veins that suddenly stood out under his sallow skin. The wind whipped her hair in his face as he sped back towards the castle, Sage in one arm, toy broom in the other, and a memory came floating back into his mind like a ghost, completely uninvited.

"God, it's a beautiful night, isn't it Severus? Look at all the stars!" Lily said, enraptured by the night sky. They were atop the Gryffindor fan tower at the Quidditch Pitch, lying contentedly on their backs, side by side. Lily's broom hung obediently in mid-air beside them.

"Indeed," Severus said softly. The velvet cloak of night was perforated with a thousand tiny lanterns; the dander of the Gods, his father used to say.

Lily cleared her throat. "You must've heard by now."

Severus turned to her casually. "Heard what?"

Lily looked uncomfortable. She bit her lip thoughtfully. "I've broken it off with James for a bit. Temporarily. I think."

"You think?" Severus repeated, frowning. This was news he definitely had not heard.

"Yes." Lily sounded slightly choked now. "He's been dabbling with that damn Ravenclaw, that damn Warnerton slut!"

Severus raised his eyebrows. It was rare that Lily was so openly aggravated.

"That's terrible." Severus did his best not to reveal his glee, though such powerful emotion is often difficult to hide. Lily turned to him, glaring. He could only just see her eyes narrowed in the dark.

"You might at least be honest in your rapture," She spat bitterly.

"I am not the least bit interested in your sordid affairs," Severus retorted.

"Because you are no longer part of them?" Lily replied. Severus clenched his jaw and felt the old wound reopen once more.

"Because they are none of my business," Severus said quietly. "Our friendship was established one the basis of things more relevant than the exchange of teenage drama."

Lily sighed audibly. An owl hooted ominously in the distance. "Sometimes I question the very existence of our friendship, Severus."

"Then why are you here with me now?" Severus asked her, his voice mild. Her eyes swiveled towards his face. Lily's face was damp with tears; he could only just see them in the moonlight, like liquid pearls sliding down her pink cheeks.

"Because I need you," Lily whispered. "I need you to need me, too."

As she had done so many nights before, she crawled into his arms, warm and soft and smelling of jasmine. Severus's skin tingled with sensation and he discreetly took in the sweet scent that was Lily; her hair, her clothes, her skin. He admired the way her face shined in the moonlight; her cheeks, her high forehead, her eyelids, natural and barren of powder and shadow. His lips yearned to meet the soft flesh but he kept them away and focused instead on the sky.

"I cannot allow you to keep doing this to me," he told her after a while. "Running away and coming back. I deserve as much respect as anyone else." The silence enveloped them completely. Her lack of reply told him as much as he needed to know; she knew she was using him, and she knew that, despite what he said, he'd keep allowing it to happen. Severus loved her, and no romance she ever shared with James would hinder that.

When she turned her face to him once more, he could see tears flowing freely down her face. "But you know that I still love you...some part of me, it always will...do you not know that? You must know that."

He bore his teeth, moved quickly and roughly away from her warm body and cried out in frustration. "IT IS THAT, RIGHT THERE!" He bellowed. His fists were clenched into tight, menacing balls. Lily recoiled, her eyes round. "YOU CANNOT TELL ME THOSE AWFUL THINGS AND GO RUNNING BACK TO POTTER THE VERY NEXT DAY!" Severus dug his nails into his palms in an effort to keep from striking her.

Lily looked down at her lap, her bottom lip quivering. Severus would not tell if she was ashamed of what she had done or ashamed that he understood it.

"Just get on the broom," he muttered, averting his eyes. "The stars are not as beautiful as they once were."

Lily nodded, sniffing, and, still not daring to meet his eyes, climbed on the broomstick behind him, gingerly wrapping her arms around his waist. Severus growled as he found himself hurt, angry, and aroused all at the same time. But the pain overruled the rest. He closed his eyes as if to pray for patience and glided slowly toward the castle.

Those five minutes may have been the longest five minutes Severus ever experienced. Lily's thin white arms were around him, her porcelain skin pressing against his chest, behind which his heart was thumping unevenly. His throat ached with withholding his tears and his eyes were watering profusely. He gripped the handle of the Comet with astounding strength and was shocked that it didn't splinter in his palm. He could feel her cheek resting on his back, and he almost shuddered with racking sobs. Severus had a feeling this was the last time she would ever touch him without feeling utterly obligated.

When they reached the ground, she removed her arms quickly. Severus's breath caught in his throat. Lily softly muttered something and her broom sped back toward the shed. He expected her to turn around and walk back towards the castle without so much as word, but instead she raised her stare and met his eyes. There was something there that he could not quite identify. He probed lightly in her mind and saw an odd combination of emotions: admiration, hatred, and pity. Severus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from weeping.

"...Are we...are we over, then?" Lily asked, her eyes darting from her feet to his face. Before Severus could stop himself, he nodded curtly.

He thought he saw her face crumple into tears as she darted back toward the castle doors, but he would never be sure.

"POMFREY!" Severus bellowed. He had lost all control of his emotions. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick game running into the Entrance Hall, looking alarmed. McGonagall visibly blanched at the sight of Severus carrying Sage's limp body and Flitwick fainted dead away. "She's fallen. I think she's merely unconscious but I can't be sure."

Dumbledore levitated Sage and McGonagall conjured a stretcher for the girl. Severus felt the slightest tinge of embarrassment but had the good sense to ignore it.

"Where did she fall?" Dumbledore asked as they hurried along the staircase. Only McGonagall and Severus walked alongside him now; Flitwick had been left on the floor of the Entrance Hall.

"On the Quidditch Pitch. I'd given her permission to play with her new toy broomstick." Severus searched his daughter's face for any sign of animation but there was none. His hand was shaking violently as he moved to smooth the hair from her closed eyes.

"What in heaven's name -" He heard Madam Pomfrey say. "My word, Severus...what happened?"

"She fell from her broom," he explained impatiently, glaring at the nurse. "If you don't mind, Madam, I do believe we should try to _hurry_."

"Yes. Right away." Pomfrey glared at him but lifted Sage from the stretcher and on to the bed as gently as if she were her own mother.

"You..." Severus started to say, but as he tried to go forward, he found that his world looked grainy and suddenly saturated with black.

The walls were white. The ceiling was white. The windows were eclipsed by thick green curtains, the kind of green that brought images of vomit to mind. The colors didn't matter. Severus closed his eyes again. The sweet paralysis of sleep locked on to every inch of his skin and it would not let go without a fight. He tried half-heartedly to change position, but the attempt was in vain. He waited for the dark to take him again, but his thoughts were not content to fade. Severus lingered somewhere between sleep and wake until he felt Madam Pomfrey shaking his arm.

"What?" He murmured, drawling with exhaustion. He felt glass touch his dry lips.

"Take this potion. You are utterly malnourished. When is the last time you had something to eat?"

"Maybe three days ago." He said before tipping the liquid down his throat. i _Replenishing Potion_ /i , he thought. _Very effective._

"No wonder you fainted. And from stress, too, I'm sure." Madam Pomfrey bustled about, turning his covers and fluffing his pillows. Severus glared at her.

"I assure you my linens are perfectly satisfactory, Madam," Severus growled. Madam Pomfrey tutted him.

"I will do as I please as long as you are my patient."

"And how long might that be?" Severus testily asked.

"As long as I see fit," she assured him, and abruptly took her leave. There was a plate of food on his bedside table but he still had no appetite; the Replenishing Potion had taken care of that. He drummed his fingers idly on his thigh.

"Daddy?" He heard from the next bed over. Severus turned so quickly he felt his neck crack, his heart leaping confidently at the sound of his daughter's voice.

"Sage?" he called. "Are you well?"

"I'm okay," she said quietly. "Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion and now I'm all fixed."

"And I as well," Severus replied. He felt a sudden rush of anger as he stared at her small, dark silhouette on the off-white curtain. "If you aren't more careful next time, I will break that broomstick in half and burn the pieces."

Her shadow seemed to wilt at his declaration. Severus could hear her small voice tremble as she said, "Yes, Daddy."

"Now go to sleep," he told her gruffly. "You'll feel much better tomorrow morning."

There was only the rustling of bedsheets from behind the curtain, and after that, nothing. Severus turned toward the window, seeing that the last of the orange sun was sinking lazily behind the mountains in the distance. He turned his back on the dying light and closed his eyes again, seeing nothing but porcelain skin and red hair that were nowhere to be found but in memories.

"I knew I'd find you here."

Severus turned around, dropping the pebble he had intended to skip across the serene cerulean water, which was glossy with moonshine. He was suddenly conscious of the earth beneath his fingernails, of the grease in his stringy hair. He stared down at his lap, his hands on his knees as he felt her sit beside him on the cool grass. He nearly shuddered. His smell was on her. Potter's smell.

"Are you okay, Sev?" Lily asked, gently rubbing his back. He made an effort to smile, which she reciprocated. "You look upset."

"It's nothing," he assured her. "It's quite cold out here. Are you warm enough?"

"I'm a bit chilly, actually," she replied. He tentatively put an arm around her and she scooted closer toward him. Severus would feel the curve of her breast, the flat valley that was her belly, the strong muscle of her thighs. He allowed his fingers to rest on the back of her neck. It had been so long since he had touched her.

"You've been distant lately." Severus said. His voice was utterly flat.

"Yes," Lily conceded. "I'm sorry. Being Head Girl and all. It's fairly consuming..."

Severus sensed that he should tell her that it was okay, or that he understood. Something along the lines of submission. He remained silent.

"I know that it's been a while," Lily remarked. "I just...with all of this responsibility...I really don't want to chance getting caught."

"That isn't what you said in October," Severus quietly informed her. He leaned closer to her ear, his hot breath dancing across her skin. "That isn't what you said when my mouth was on your breast, when my hand was between your thighs, making you weak with pleasure."

He could see her tense beside him. Her eyes were closed, savoring the memory, basking in the warmth of his words on her skin.

"Tell me the real reason, Lily," Severus told her, pressing gently upon her mind. "Or I will find it myself."

Lily turned toward him, glaring. As she looked into his eyes, her frown relaxed, and her eyes closed slowly, drowsed by desire. Severus already knew why she had left his arms empty for three weeks, and at the moment, the thought of Potter escaped him. After their lips met the succeeding events were the only logical conclusion to the night.

"Why have you teased me so?" He breathed on to her collarbone as he rolled over on top of her, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. She moaned softly as he unbuttoned her white blouse. Her own fingers fumbled to remove her tie, then his. He slid her gray uniform skirt off impatiently then unbuttoned his trousers.

"I've missed this," Lily moaned. He tugged her pink panties down over her thighs and delicately ran his fingertips over her wet slit. She groaned again. "And I'd forgotten just how much I missed it."

Severus snaked a hand behind Lily's head, which was leaning against the trunk of the beech tree. Her bra was undone know and her breasts were bouncing freely on her chest, pink nipples erect. He bent down and took one in his mouth as he slowly guided himself into her.

"Oh, Gods," she panted. "Almost forgot..." She fished through her skirt pocket and pulled out a tiny bottle, which she promptly uncorked with her thumbnail and drank. Severus thrust into her suddenly and the bottle fell with a small tinkle to the hardened roots of the tree.

Penetrating her was like dipping into something rich and fine; liquid gold or silver, maybe, but even those were not grand enough to be part of a proper description. She was as vocal as she chose to be and he fought the growl that rose in his throat as he kissed and sucked her breasts, one hand behind her head, one gripping her thigh for leverage. Her calf was resting comfortably on his shoulder. Severus ignored the dull ache in his knees and thrust harder, turning Lily's mouth into a slack O of ecstasy.

As he orgasmed inside of her, he cried out, but quietly enough so that he still could hear her moans. He finished and he knew that she had not said his name. Not his name, but another. Though it was unclear he knew what she had done. He was satisfied that he had had his way with her, even if it was to be the last time he ever laid hands on her naked flesh.

As Potter's face flashed before his mind's eye, her jerked his hand away from her soft hair, turned away and began to dress. He could feel her incredulous glare on the back of his head. She got up quickly, finished dressing before Severus and tore off into the night, her red main streaming out behind her.

After Severus and Sage were discharged from the Hospital Wing the following day, Severus handed Sage over to Dumbledore, who was going to give her a tour of the castle. Still trying to shake the vision of his and Lily's last lovemaking session from his head, Severus walked briskly to his quarters and relished the thought of having the room to himself for at least two hours. He opened the door and thought of the small box in his desk drawer.

_Don't even think about it_, he told himself. _Memories are completely irrelevant to the present_.

But as Severus stepped closer to the desk he found that he wanted to see it. His hand trembling slightly, he opened the drawer, which was filled with various things; quills, inkpots, parchment, mints, Alcohol Drops for the nights that he didn't have a bottle. He rustled through the supplies and eventually found what he was looking for; a small, purple velveteen box.

The box popped open with a small click. The silver band shone brilliantly in the orange torch light. He cupped it in his palm and clenched his fist, feeling the cold metal dig into his clammy skin. The metal would never be warm again.

He put the ring back in the box, shut the drawer, and allowed himself ten seconds of honest, racking sobs before he turned to his blank parchment and began to construct the curriculum of the quickly approaching school year.

----

Author's note:

Following a review I received, I decided to add this.

Sage's toy broom is a bit more advanced than average toy brooms, and it goes higher than usual.

And also, to answer your question, no, I am not going to illustrate every year of her life.

Additionally, flamers and Canon Nazis, please stay away from my stories.

I'm not perfect, and fixing every tiny error is not at the top of my priorities list. I have a life outside of fanfiction, and you'll have to accept that my updates may be sporadic and/or flawed. If you can't deal with that, do not read this story.


	6. Cinder and Smoke

Authors note: I don't think the asterisks I used to separate scenes showed up in my previous chapters, sorry about that. I'll make sure to make it clear from this point on. Additionally, I'm taking a break from all the heartache and drama. I'd like for this story to take on a different approach and have a bit of comic relief. Somebody told me it was getting repetitive and they were right, so I'm going to switch it up a bit. Any suggestions are welcome.

* * *

The sun streamed down, mercilessly scorching its pale subjects in bright, yellow heat. The air felt humid and heavy with unspoken words. It was fairy mating season and Severus was desperately trying to ignore the high-pitched moaning coming from a nearby rosebush. As he felt tiny teeth bite into the cartilage of his ear, the back of his hand collided into a small body with alarming speed and accuracy. The fairy, dazed, flew away, its jeweled wings clicking with every movement, a string of angry mumbles trailing from its mouth. 

"Daddy, I don't want to leave," Sage said. Her pink lips were set in a pout as she shifted her weight nervously, her small purple suitcase on the ground next to her.

"Your Uncle Brutus will take care of you," Severus assured her. He took a step towards her and brushed her hair from her cheek. She blinked, and he ran his thumb dotingly over her soft and youthful skin. "You must promise me that you will behave yourself, Sage."

"I promise," Sage replied, competently holding his demanding gaze. Her voice was candied, velveteen and juvenescent. Looking into her emerald eyes forced him to remember what he would never be able to forget, and though it hurt, the unconditional attachment that had been forged so solidly between them made his burden somewhat easier to bear. He knew that the year ahead would be the most difficult thing he had faced since Lily's death because, for the first time, he would be completely and utterly alone.

"And you will keep up with your studies?" Severus asked, lowering his eyebrows. Sage nodded.

"History, French, arithmetic, and English composition," Sage recited.

"And Potions," Severus added. He reflected that the debt he owed to his cousin was bordering Severus's own mortality for all that Brutus was offering Sage.

"And Potions," Sage added with glee. She had been experimenting more and more with concoctions of Severus's choosing and under his direct supervision. Thus far she had accomplished nothing more than melting his cauldron into a twisted blob and turning the wood beneath a violent shade of fuchsia. However, this failed to hinder the child as she was determined to brew as much as possibly allowed.

The carriage, pulled by two skeletal, crimson-eyed thestrals, had arrived at the gate. Sage eyed the carriage apprehensively, fingered the handle of her suitcase, then rushed forward and embraced as much as her father as she could capture in her arms, which was his pelvis and thighs. Embarrassment quickly trumped the flower of warmth that had bloomed so freely in his chest.

"Control yourself!" Severus snapped, forcing the girl away from him. Her lip quivered as her eyes grew large. "You are getting too old for such shameless public displays of affection."

"Sorry, Daddy," Sage bit her lip.

"And you are not to call me 'Daddy' anymore. It is soft and childish. You are to address me only as 'Father' or 'Sir'." Severus explained.

"Yes, Da – er, Father." Sage corrected herself. She was distraught; that much was obvious. Severus had hoped that perhaps if she was angry with him it would lessen her separation anxiety but he was now beginning to see that was a mistake.

Without a word, she picked up her purple suitcase and headed toward the gate, her black Mary-Janes crunching the gravel. Severus was silent in his pride. It was only when she began to climb into the carriage that he cried out, striding quickly toward her.

"Oh, come here, you silly girl," He muttered, taking her in his arms, her wiry legs wrapping around his middle. He could feel her smiling against his cheek. Closing his eyes, he ran his fingers through her hair, taking in her scent. He could feel tears pricking his eyes but they receded with several hard blinks.

"I love you, Father," Sage whispered, her voice muffled on his shoulder.

"Behave yourself for Brutus, and I will write you," Severus replied. Sage turned, got into the carriage, and rolled slowly from Severus's sight.

* * *

"Have you seen her off" was the first thing Severus heard after shutting the door to the Entrance Hall. Dumbledore was behind him and holding a conspicuous leather-bound book, his damned blue eyes twinkling as they always did.

"Yes," Severus replied. "She will find her way to the train, if she has half her mother's brains." Severus immediately regretted what he said, but there was no way to take it back. Dumbledore frowned sympathetically at him, then cleared his throat. Severus took this to mean that Dumbledore had something to say and stared expectantly at him.

"There is someone I would like you to meet, if you would kindly choose to join us for lunch in the Great Hall," Dumbledore said. Severus's eyes narrowed. "Her name is Darcy Winthrop. She's just graduated from Beauxbatons and she's going to be apprenticing under Minerva for the summer and into the fall semester."

"And if I should not choose to join you?" Severus drawled. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest for fear that if they were limp at his sides he might find himself unable to fight his irrepressible urges to strangle his employer. It was not often that Severus was forced to socialize, and he preferred to keep it that way.

"Oh, come now, Severus! Don't be ridiculous. The house elves are preparing a special feast of pheasant and rice pudding." Dumbledore chuckled, clapping him playfully on the shoulder. Severus scowled. How had the old man figured out his favorite foods? His stomach was grumbling quite lustily, betraying him to the Headmaster. His scowl deepened.

"Very well," Severus snapped. "But I will not linger. I have matters to attend to."

"Splendid," Dumbledore smiled, clapping him on the back again. Severus almost flinched at his touch. It brought back an abundance of unpleasant memories, most of which had to do with his father. He walked swiftly into the Great Hall with Dumbledore and stared coldly at the staff table. His colleagues stared back with indifference, annoyance, and, in one case, interest.

"This is our new Potions Master whom I have been telling you so much about," Dumbledore said to a woman sitting to the right of Minerva. Severus noticed that she was not striking, merely pretty in an unconventional way. Her eyes were hazel behind round glasses and her hair was the color of earth. Her lips were probably light in color, for they had been enhanced with a darker gloss. She had rather unbecoming bangs that swept across her forehead, resting just above her thin nose. There was a light spray of freckles across her cheeks. Severus noted that the most attractive thing about her was how clear her skin appeared to be. It may have been under enchantment, of course, but it was flawless all the same. Darcy met his analyzing gaze and returned the stare with a mix of apathy and slightly piqued interest.

"Severus Snape," Dumbledore continued. "Darcy Winthrop."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Severus said tonelessly, inclining his head.

Darcy nodded. "Likewise."

Severus took his seat between Professor Quirrell and Professor Sinistra. Quirrell was talking animatedly to Sinistra about Muggle telescopes and proceeded to carry on the conversation as though Severus had never come between them. Food appeared on his platter and he merely stared at it, angry and bitter for having been coerced into dining with such morons merely because he was hungry. The steam curled seductively into his acute nostrils.

"Er – Severus?" He heard a female voice call. Severus looked over to find Darcy staring at him.

"Yes, Miss Winthrop?" He replied loftily. Her expression faltered.

"I was just wondering if you could, ah, perhaps show me my quarters. The Headmaster told me that they were near the dungeons," Darcy said.

Severus frowned. "He must be mistaken. If you are Minerva's apprentice, why would your quarters be located so far away from her own?"

"I rather like the cold and the dank," she admitted. "It reminds me of home."

"Very well. I shall show you after we are finished with lunch." Severus conceded, growling.

_Damn you, Albus_, he thought bitterly. _I just want to be left alone_.

Quirrell was reaching for a basket of bread that was located to the left of Severus. "Severus, would you mind - "

"Yes, I would mind!" He snapped. The table fell into a hush for several seconds. Ignoring this, Severus grasped his wine glass and poured the sour liquid down his throat, grateful for anything that could pacify his anger. Quirrell did not ask for the bread basket again.

* * *

"This way," Severus testily said, walking swiftly down the chilly stone corridor. "Do try to keep up." Darcy's oxfords were clicking on the floor, echoing in the wide space. He could smell her perfume, and it irritated him. She absolutely reeked of patchouli. 

"Wait," Darcy said, touching his back. Severus stopped abruptly and turned to her, glaring. He was not in the mood to be touched. "You have a hair. Let me get rid of it."

Still glaring, Severus turned around as Darcy plucked the hair from the fabric of his robe.

"It's red," she murmured, letting it fall from her fingertips.

"My daughter," Severus informed her. They resumed walking, now in step together. Severus's eyes were clouded with thought and he did not notice Darcy's curious stare. She adjusted her wire-frame glasses.

"You are married?" Darcy asked. Severus turned left down a more dimly lit corridor. At the end there was a portrait of Morgan le Fay, who was fingering the exquisite rubies that were strung on silver around her neck.

"No," Severus coldly stated. Darcy was silent. Severus turned to address the portrait. "This is Darcy Winthrop. She will be a temporary resident of this room." Morgan le Fay nodded and resumed admiring her jewelry. Severus turned back to Darcy. "You'll assign her a password, which you can change as often or as little as you like. If there is an emergency, my quarters are just down the hall. However, I do not plan on indulging any need for social activity, so if you are merely in need of conversation, I suggest you find one of Hogwarts' other staff members."

Darcy's mouth sagged slowly into surprise, then astonishment. "I suppose I couldn't ask for much more than a fair warning."

"Indeed. Good day to you," Severus replied in monotone. Pleased to finally be rid of the silly girl, he strode eagerly back to his quarters, where an empty room and a full cauldron awaited his return.

* * *

Severus donned his bulky dragonhide gloves. The liquid was simmering now, thick and midnight blue. On the wooden block he sliced the hemlock, freshly imported from the United States, into dime-size pieces. The plant, though dangerously poisonous, was an essential ingredient to the Dreamless Sleep potion. Resulting respiratory failure and additional side effects after ingestion could be effectively counteracted by adding black alder bark.

After the leaves were all the same size and the alder bark was shredded, Severus tossed a pinch of hemlock into the cauldron, stirred it thrice counterclockwise with a silver spoon, and added a handful of alder bark. A puff of vapor obscured the surface of the concoction momentarily, then cleared. It had turned a pleasant shade of indigo. It was a small and somewhat insignificant success, but Severus allowed himself a small smile. Every successful brew made his efforts worthwhile and his life that much easier.

When he finally was able to remove his gloves, he counted ten bottles of the Dreamless Sleep. That would be enough to carry him through many solitary nights. After sanitizing the wooden block with his wand, he summoned a towering bottle of nettle wine and a single silver goblet, into which he tipped half a bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion. He took the bottle and glass to his armchair by the fire and mixed the potion with the wine. As the fire flickered he gazed into the strange, swirling torrent of red and blue, twisting submissively into each other. Averting his gaze to the flames, he tipped the goblet back and savored the feeling of the concentrated mixture sliding down the back of his throat.

Within minutes of finishing the cocktail, Severus's head tilted to the side. His goblet landed with a clatter on the stone floor and the fire burned itself out.


	7. White Shadows

Authors Note: Thanks to all my reviewers, especially excessivelyperky, as your reviews are most constructive and helpful. I went back and changed the part where Albus says, "for safety reasons". I don't know why that was in there actually. Sage can't be at Hogwarts during the year because she needs basic education and Severus doesn't have the time to provide her with it. I suppose that's the best answer I can give right now.

A warning...this chapter contains rape and physical abuse. I feel a bit reluctant to post this installment, as it changes a lot. It's gone in a much different direction than I first intended, and it was completely spontaneous. I have not decided whether or not I'll go back and rewrite the ending but I may well do that, just so you know.

In addition, the lines before and after the word "Daddy" indicate a strikethrough, because for some reason I couldn't get the code to work.

---

_Dear -Daddy- Father, _

_Uncel Brutus is teaching me lots of things. I tried to make a heeling potian but it didnt' work. Were working on English now. Hes' noticed alot of misteaks in my spelling and he said we will fix them. We cot a butter fly and a lady bug. I'm trying to studie my French but its hard. I don't understand the verbs. But I made freinds with a boy next door and hes' really nice. He is fun. Theres also a girl down the way. _

_I love you, I miss you, do you miss me? _

_Love,_

_Sage_

Severus put down the parchment, his fingers suddenly weak. Sweet, silly girl. He did want her to call him Daddy, but no - it was utterly colloquial. She would address him properly. Nevertheless, the drastic slash through that simple, innocent word...the sight of it buried his heart in a chilly, weighted bank of guilt.

Just as he had dipped his falcon-feather quill in ink and begun to scratch out his response, there was a knock at the door of his office. Twitching with sudden irritation, Severus placed the quill back into the ink pot, set the parchment aside and called, "Enter."

There was a small scuffling noise behind the door, at which Severus cocked one eyebrow ever so slightly. In moments the door swung open to reveal Darcy, looking slightly disheveled with her glasses askew and holding a plate of biscuits that were turning somersaults. As she closed the door with one booted foot, she swept her bangs from her eyes, straightened her glasses and smiled nervously. Severus did not return the expression.

"Yes, Miss Winthrop?" Severus asked, leaning forward on his forearms, glaring unpleasantly at the young woman. She shifted her weight, staring down at the biscuits, which appeared to be chocolate chip. She smiled again. Severus noted with amusement that from somewhere unknown she seemed to have mustered up more confidence.

"Well, I may be mistaken, but you seemed rather standoffish yesterday..." Darcy trailed, and Severus smirked at her. It was remarkable how little she knew of him and how much she stood to discover, none of which she would find satisfactory in terms of romantic or platonic desirability. "I thought I might bring you these...well, honestly, to butter you up."

"What do you take me for, Miss Winthrop?" Severus crisply inquired, standing from his seat and striding elegantly over to the intimidated woman. He ran his fingertip along the rim of the platter. "Do you honestly think a batch of biscuits will immediately warm me to you?"

Darcy's expression suddenly darkened with disappointment and frustration. As her lips grew pursed she shoved the platter forward into his hands. "I have not chosen my words as carefully as I would have liked. This apprenticeship is an important opportunity for me and I do not want to jeopardize that. To be quite clear, Professor Snape, I do not want problems with any of my colleagues.

"I'm not thick; I understand you have no desire to form a friendship. I accept that. I am simply asking for a relationship of mutual civility."

Severus nodded slowly, noting with amusement that the girl's cheeks were tinged pink. He wondered if she had rehearsed that speech. "You display great ambition. If you had attended Hogwarts, there is no doubt you would have been sorted into Slytherin."

Darcy's eyes were downcast, her glasses sliding to the tip of her nose. Severus eyed her curiously. "I don't detect even a hint of a French accent in your speech, Miss Winthrop. Why is that?"

"I was not born in France, sir," Darcy explained, moving her hands as she spoke. "I was raised in London but my parents thought it best to move for financial reasons."

Both were silent momentarily. As Darcy's eyes met his, Severus attempted to lightly probe her mind. He saw bits and pieces of things; naked flesh, smiles and tears, and, most often, a blond man with alarmingly bright blue eyes. Darcy's brow furrowed, but if she noticed the mental invasion she did not indicate it. Having found nothing interesting, Severus looked down at the biscuits, who were now limping lazily around the platter. He snatched one, placed it tentatively to his lips, and nibbled at it cautiously. Darcy watched with anticipation. After sucking on the soft, moist crumbs, he bit into half of the sweet.

"A bit sugary," He mumbled, but Darcy was smiling nonetheless. Snape sneered at her. "Why are you still here?"

"You haven't told me to leave," she replied simply.

"Well, now I am. Get out of my sight," Severus snapped, placing the cookies on his desk. When he turned back around, he only saw a flash of her long fingertips gripping the thick mahogany, then heard the heavy slam of the door.

* * *

Severus was not hungry. He would not have been hungry had he suffered the stomach flu for a week before. He was, in fact, in the Great Hall only to please Dumbledore, but that was hardly worth it. 

His heartstrings felt buried and weak, like ribbons in the snow. He had the strange feeling of his mind being naked before the world. He felt that something was wrong, but he could not seem to theorize outside of the floaty, light-headed bubble his brain was resting in.

"Severus?" he heard. Severus turned. Dumbledore was staring curiously at him. "You have not eaten a bite."

"Not hungry..." Severus murmured, feeling as one does after a depressive episode and one too many glasses of rum. His thoughts were molasses, slow and sluggish, crawling lazily towards his lips. His deepest musings were transformed into sweet and incoherent fluff. He could see the faces of his puzzled coworkers but was unable to make any relevant connections.

"Are you quite alright?" McGonagall inquired. Her old, lined face was etched with concern. Severus turned to her, reeling.

"I think not," He managed to say. His mouth was numb, uncooperative. Slowly, he rose from his seat, bracing himself with one shaky hand, and walked slowly and unsteadily from the Hall. His stringy hair fell into his unfocused eyes, and as he moved to brush it away, he heard Darcy's voice.

"...go and see if he's okay." she was saying. Footsteps echoed through the hall as she jogged after him. "Professor? Wait for me!"

But Severus did not want to wait. On the contrary, he felt a sudden and unexplained burst of panic. Severus urged his sleepy legs to move more quickly. The paintings on the walls stared after him, their eyes bulging with morbid curiosity as he hobbled down the hall with increasing speed. The world suddenly spun before him as two strong, slender arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him backward. He leaned into the arms of Darcy, his body pillowed by her breasts, patchouli sensating him.

Darcy draped his arm over her shoulders and helped him regain his balance. "Where are your quarters?" she asked. After a grunt and a point, they began to walk together, Severus making noises or muttering things to get her in the right direction. She shouldered a fair share of his weight and he was vaguely surprised by her strength.

As they reached a painting of Salazar Slytherin together, Severus's head lolled on Darcy's shoulder. He was worse now, his thoughts slower, his head lighter, and an erection hard and unrelenting between his listless thighs. He had hardly noticed and doubted that Darcy had.

"What is your password?" Darcy whispered. His ear tickled with her hot breath. He looked toward the painting, trying desperately to remember.

_Prepared for either alternative. _

"_A__d utrumque paratus_,"He muttered, slurring slightly. Salazar nodded curtly and the portrait swung open to reveal a cold, Elizabethan room bedecked in green and gray hues. The room spun faster and Severus was very glad he had not eaten. He felt his legs go limp and began to fall sharply to his knees. In the nick of time, Darcy seized him under the armpit and hoisted him onto his bed. She turned the green cover back from the pillow and helped him into a comfortable position.

Before Severus's eyes the canopy waved and slithered. He closed them and winced, trying desperately to fight the sickness that was rising inside of him. His shoes and robes were being removed. He felt a cool hand on his face, skin like plaster, and opened his eyes once more. Darcy was mere inches away, staring very deeply into him. There was no wall to be raised.

He was sixteen, having sexy Lily in the Slytherin dormitory, his tie around the bedpost, her skirt tickling his knees. They were panting and he knew, this was making love. His hands on her back, exploring her milky skin. His hot seed pouring into her spasming tunnel. Screams echoed in the dormitory, their silhouettes dancing on the curtains.

He was seventeen, feeling his father burn another cigarette into the nape of his neck. He was turning around, and his father was flying backwards towards the window, his skin suddenly broken by the shattered glass, bruises spreading underneath. Tired of the burn marks and the ache of being hated. He was running.

He was eighteen, feeling the Dark Mark burn on his arm for the first time, breaking the shot glass he had been so enthusiastically drinking from. It was exploding in the fire place, making the fire a chemical cloud of orange and purple, but only momentarily. Terrified and excited, suddenly being accepted, being part of the crowd. It was a new kind of popularity. It was power.

The memories flew forward in a torrent of images, shocking in their intensity and the secretive aura which surrounded them. Severus was paralyzed, his eyes open and glassy, knowing that Darcy was still towering over him. He felt hot tears leak from the sides of his eyes and slide down his cheeks. He was helpless to wipe them away. Weakly he prayed for sleep, and at last it came with an all-enveloping blackness so akin to death that before his eyelids had fully closed he prayed that he would wake.

* * *

Severus awoke to what felt like an epic hangover. Massaging his temple, he glanced over to the nightstand for an empty bottle or glass, but there was neither. He searched for the crinkled wrappers of Alcohol Drops but there were none to be found. He examined the floor for an empty potion bottle, thinking that perhaps he had drained an entire flask of Dreamless Sleep, but the floor was clean. Severus furrowed his brow and went to fetch a glass of water. 

After he felt hydrated, Severus sipped a Pepper-up Potion and tried to remember what had happened the day before. He had gotten up and gone to his office to plan his curriculum further, where he had received a letter from Sage. He had begun to draft the reply when he was rudely interrupted by Darcy.

"Damnable cookies," he growled, thinking of the Winthrop girl.

Suddenly, he remembered everything. The remains of the potion fell to the floor with a clatter and a splash. He ignored the spilled brew and leapt from his seat, disregarding the throbbing in his forehead. He paced the floor as anxiously as a caged animal, his eyes manic, his mouth set in a horrified grimace.

"That bitch!" Severus cried. He didn't notice that his eyes were hot and stinging with tears. What she had done was categorized with rape. His teeth grinding and his cheeks flushed, he flung the contents of his bookshelf to the floor in one quick, angry swipe. He spotted one of the books that had fallen open and seized it. After flipping hastily to the back, he stopped to skim the text.

"Potion for Forced Legilimency," He read aloud. Severus had once brewed this potion for the Dark Lord himself. It was dark magic, dark indeed. It hindered the victim's Occlumens abilities and rendered them defenseless against mental invasion. It was extremely complicated but had the advantage of being fairly quick to brew.

Severus wondered how much she had seen of his past. He wondered why she cared, and why she would go to so much trouble to find out. It was obvious that there was more to Darcy Winthrop than met the eye – if that was even her real name. He berated himself for having not been suspicious at the start. Severus had taken her for a demure, average girl, aiming to be well-liked and successful, and therefore had felt no need to probe much further. He could now see how wrong he had been.

Howling with frustration and anger, Severus strode quickly over to the fireplace, seized the urn on the mantle, reached inside to retrieve a handful of Floo powder and hurled it into the hearth.

"Winthrop! I summon you to my quarters at once!" Severus bellowed. Within thirty seconds, Darcy appeared in the fireplace, looking cool and collected, if not slightly bewildered.

"You wanted a word, Severus?" She asked softly. Clearly she did not expect him to remember the previous day's events. As a twisted, manic smile stretched his lips across his face, he was pleased to see an inkling of alarm in her vacant hazel eyes. In one quick, flawless movement, he had thrown her against the hard stone wall.

"YOU BLOODY HAG!" He roared, her mouth inches away from her face. Her eyes were closed in pain and her neck was craned forward in submission. "HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU DRUG AND MENTALLY RAPE ME! DID YOU THINK I WOULDN'T REMEMBER?"

"I...I don't know...what..." Darcy whispered, her eyes still shut tight against his maddened cries.

"YOU LIAR!" Severus screamed, bordering hysteria. Sweat drenched his blushing face. "YOU KNEW EXACTLY WHAT YOU WERE DOING, DO NOT EVEN ATTEMPT TO DENY IT!"

Darcy was crying now, her small body twitching with silent sobs. Her quivering mouth was attempting to form words but she appeared to have lost her ability to communicate.

"We'll see how you like it!" Severus shouted, tearing madly at her robes, shredding them with his powerful hands. Darcy screamed but he didn't hear her. Her tattered robes fell around her feet, revealing a blue dress. She lost control of her bladder and even this did not deter Severus. He hooked one hand around her neck and threw her viciously to the floor. Darcy turned on her belly and tried to crawl away but Severus fell to his knees and positioned her on her back.

Her eyes were red and weeping, her nose was running, and her expression was a grimace of pain and utter fear. "Please, please..." Darcy pleaded, her voice shaking with each word. "Please...I...can explain..."

Severus was deaf to her cries. He was sobbing himself as he tore her panties from her body and thrust violently into her, feeling hot blood gush from the orifice.

"STOP!" Darcy shrieked. "Oh God, please..."

"DO – NOT – EVER – LIE – TO – ME!" Severus screamed, punctuating each word with a violent, merciless thrust into her aching womanhood. "YOU LIAR...YOU WHORE! YOU LIAR, YOU LIAR, YOU LIAR!" He bellowed and wept, and the misery soon rendered him soft inside of her. He ran a hand over his groin. It was sticky and wet with her blood.

Severus blinked and seemed to wake from his blinding rage. Her face was pale, her lips two lines of washed-out pink, chapped and bitten. Her mascara ran in black rivers down the sides of her face. There was blood in her hair from when she had fallen. He leaned over her face and brought a hand to it, shaking violently, his heart pounding a fiery tattoo in his chest.

"I..."

Severus fell with a dull thud on top of her body and, for a long time, the world was black for the both of them.


	8. Well Respected Man

Severus groaned. He tried to move his arms but found that he could not. He opened his eyes tentatively and observed that he was tied to his own bed with thick, powerful rope – the kind they used to tether dragons. As he raised his head he noted that both hands and both feet were tied to the four bedposts. He was clothed only in his nightshirt. He laughed shakily, then turned his head to the porthole.

Darcy was blocking his view. She was sitting in his green winged armchair, this time clothed in a black dress, crafted of lace and velvet. It was draped over her crossed legs, sweeping the ground in elegance. Her neckline dropped sharply to reveal an ample amount of cleavage. She has fashioned her hair in a high bun.

"Let me go, you psychopathic wench!" Severus spat. He cursed himself for forgetting to change the password. He struggled in his bindings and could feel a sweat break on his temple. Severus could hear her amused laugh.

"If I was truly as unstable as you seem to imply, it might have been I who raped you," Darcy drawled. Her voice was lofty, more courtly now.

"Do not forget it was you who instigated this!" Severus hissed, turning toward her, the tendons of his neck standing out under his skin. Darcy leaned forward in her chair, her teeth showing in her anger.

"So I deserved what I got, did I?" She snarled. "How dare you."

"Who are taking orders from, Darcy?" Severus asked pointedly, glaring at her. "And what is your real name?"

Darcy merely smirked, twirling a wayward strand of hair absentmindedly around her finger. "For what it's worth, Severus, by first impression I thought you were a bit antisocial and cold, but otherwise a normal human being. You can understand how my assessment has changed in the past few hours."

"Answer my questions!" Severus barked, straining against the rope. He could feel his pulse quicken despite the deep ache of guilt that was ulcerating his insides. He struggled to keep the focus not on what he had done to her, but who and what she was.

"You're hardly in a position to be giving orders, aren't you?" Darcy said. She sighed, and, for a moment, sounded weary. When she met his eyes again, her own were callous.

"I'm in the process of studying to become an Auror, and I graduated from Beauxbatons only two months ago. I was approached by an elderly couple and propositioned for a bit of detective work. They wanted me to find the long-lost bastard child of their youngest daughter, Lily Evans, who later became Lily Potter," Darcy casually explained. Severus's blood boiled upon hearing Sage referred to as a 'bastard'.

Darcy went on, "I accepted, and after doing some research, I found that you were Sage's guardian. I had been exceptional in my Transfiguration skills in school and decided to use that as a cover for my true purposes, which are – and were – to investigate you," Her eyes were glittering, something Severus found both eerie and aggravating.

"Why did they not simply contact me directly?" Severus inquired. It simply didn't make sense.

"They informed me that they had tried, many times, to arrange meetings with you."

"Through the mail?"

"No. Through Lily's sister, Petunia Dursley."

Severus snorted. Lily's Muggle parents were sorely misinformed if they had anticipated Petunia to be anything of a reliable contact. She and her beefy husband absolutely loathed everything having to do with magic. "Petunia Dursley is a proud and elitist Muggle. She would not have anything to do with me if we were the last two human beings on Earth, or any wizard or witch, for that matter."

"You would think they would have known," Darcy frowned.

"So what are you going to tell them? That their granddaughter has a mad rapist for a father?" Severus asked, sneering. He shivered at his own mordant inquiry.

Darcy sighed again and appeared to be thinking the situation over. Severus, who had been sure that Darcy would spotlight his behavior in an instant, was intrigued. She moved to speak, then stopped and began again.

"This was not the first time I was raped, though I hope it will be the last." Her eyes were downcast, a tear streaming from each, her face red and ashamed. "And quite honestly, I find it repulsive that you are more concerned for your reputation than you are for your actions."

His wrists were going numb as the ropes began to cut off the circulation to his hands. Severus felt as though his throat was closing. He chose his next words carefully. "I hold the custody of my child above everything else, but that does not mean I am not deeply sorry."

Darcy nodded. "Be that as it may, there's no way I can be sure that your child is not in danger."

"I can arrange a meeting between the two of you," Severus said quickly. Hot panic had risen in his chest at her ominous words. "She is staying with a relative of mine, but I will be able to bring her back here, if only for several days."

"Reasonable enough," Darcy murmured. Severus watched her as she uncrossed her legs and winced. Fighting back a cry of guilty anguish, he instead cleared his throat.

"Miss Winthrop, if you will untie me, I have a salve that will heal your...wounds," Severus said, nodding towards his private store cupboard. She looked apprehensive.

"You would prefer that I did not go to Madam Pomfrey?" Darcy asked. Slowly, Severus nodded. "The _audacity_...how can I be expected to trust the man who raped me only hours ago!" With that, Darcy burst into tears, cradling her face in her arms. Her sobs echoed throughout the stone room.

"I'm sorry!" Severus cried, honest and pure in his unrelenting guilt. He could feel a boulder rising in his throat, his eyes stinging, his fingers numb. "Please believe me, I only reacted. I never meant to hurt you."

Darcy looked at him, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from how many tears she had shed. "I have seen love in you and I have seen hatred, more specifically the utter disregard for human life. When will one triumph over the other within you? Has it happened, and if it has, how can I be reassured?"

"Look into my eyes," Severus said softly. Darcy edged forward on her knees until she was at his bedside, then turned her head. Their eyes aligned, Darcy searched, and Severus revealed.

Several minutes later, Darcy got to her feet, the ghost of a small smile quickly fading from her lips. To his relief, she went to each poster of the bed and undid his bindings. He alternatively clenched and unclenched his fingers and toes, feeling the blood flow back into the extremities. His legs were naked, white and sparsely dotted with wiry black hairs. He found his trousers by the table and slid them on.

Darcy was waiting by the cupboard. She watched him carefully as he rummaged through the bottles and jars. When Severus at last fished out the old, white salve jar, Darcy snatched it from his hand. He watched her as she unscrewed the cap and sniffed it tentatively and unflinchingly. When Severus tried to retrieve it, she jerked it away from his dangling hand.

"I will do it myself!" Darcy indignantly declared, but Severus didn't see how that was possible, as her hand was shaking like a leaf. She looked pale and sickly. By the minute, it was growing harder for the girl to hide her trauma. If there had been a cliff at the edge of his bedroom, Severus would have walked over the edge with a second thought only to his daughter.

When Darcy moved away, Severus could see spots of blood on the stone floor. His heart sank in his chest, weighted by the poisonous guilt that was growing like a cancer.

_I will always hurt everyone around me. I only know how to cause pain, and nothing else_, he thought.

The salve fell and exploded on the stone, sending white goo flying in every which direction. Darcy was arcing backwards, and for a moment, Severus saw her as dancing, twirling as ballerinas often did, graceful in her movements, pure in her humanity. He rushed forward and caught her in his arms just before she hit the floor. Hobbling slightly, he laid her body on his bed and took a seat next to her, his head in his hands.

_I could Obliviate her,_ he thought. _I could stun her, heal her, and make her forget any of this happened. _

_Yes, it is so like you to take the easy way out, isn't it? _A second voice within his mind snarled._ You will never deal with the consequences of your actions. You coward. _

_But it isn't about me, _he argued with himself._ It's about Darcy and her wellbeing. Making her forget is mercy. _

Severus pointed his wand at her and stunned her to keep her unconscious. He then repaired the jar and gathered all the usable salve. As he caught a glance out of the porthole, he noted that by the color of the water it seemed to be growing late into the night. No doubt Albus and the rest of the staff had missed them at dinner. He wondered why the Headmaster had not Flooed him.

Severus faced her body and marveled over how beautiful her exposed skin was. Like a porcelain doll she was stretched across the linen, vulnerable and beautiful in a tragic way. Briefly he grasped her soft hand in his own and noted the meticulous care she had taken of her fingernails. Purple veins ran like rivers under the milky skin and her pulse was there, slow and slightly weak. As carefully as if he were positioning a corpse for its last funeral rites, Severus bent Darcy's knees and spread her legs. He hardly noticed that he was trembling.

"I'm sorry, God, I am sorry," He whispered. Carefully he pulled her dress up over her thighs to reveal her exposed genitalia. His eyes were closed; he did not want to see the devastation his spontaneous rage had caused.

_You coward, you utter fool_, the voice whispered. _Acknowledge the wrong you've committed. _

His black eyes flickered open, dark tunnels filled with an image that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Blood and broken skin, his fault. All his fault. Severus began to sob. He took the salve in his hands and applied it gingerly, taking particular care. She was beautiful, and he had ruined her. As he wept the tears ran down his cheeks and fell with light patters to her feet. Although she would not remember, he always would.

With the help of the salve, her body repaired itself, and after the jar was empty Severus threw it against the wall, watching the glass explode once more. He sobbed uncontrollably and pounded the bedposts with his fists, his fingernails digging trenches in his white palms. After she was gone he would drink until the alcohol had stopped his heart mid-beat.

When he had regained control of himself, Severus turned back to Darcy, still peaceful and blank in her unconsciousness. It was only then that he noticed the buttons on the front of her dress.

_She transfigured my robes to suit her needs_, Severus mused. _Clever girl_.

Severus returned her to her original state of dress and tossed the transformed robes into the corner. Gently, he ran his finger down the side of her cheek. The trails the mascara had left were still there, caked and faded. The high bun her hair had been forced into had come undone. He lifted her head and untied it, so that her brown tresses fanned out across the green pillow. He stared at her, entranced.

"You really would have been in Slytherin," He whispered.

"_Obliviate_."

When Darcy came to, Severus was sitting in the winged armchair next to the bed, reading a book and looking rather impatient.

"At last," he murmured. "I was wondering if you might choose to regain consciousness before the next Dark Age."

Darcy rubbed her head, confused. "Why am I here? And, more importantly, why am I on your bed?" Immediately she looked uncomfortable and rose to her feet.

"I summoned you to inform you that I enjoyed your biscuits," Severus had placed the book on his lap and was now staring at her quite seriously. "When you began to reply, you fainted. Perhaps I am simply too intimidating to grace you with my presence?"

Darcy glared at him. "Yes, I'm sure that's it." She replied sarcastically. "When did I arrive here?"

"A quarter of an hour ago," Severus replied curtly. "The next time you feel the urge to lose consciousness, Miss Winthrop, please make sure it will not be of any inconvenience to me."

Rolling her eyes, Darcy left through the Portrait Hole. As soon as the painting swung shut, Severus rose from his chair, strode over to the liquor cabinet, seized a flask of firewhiskey and polished it off it with one long, desperate drink.

Authors Note:

Many of you may be thinking Darcy's reaction to her rape was not exactly as intense as it probably should have been. Remember that she mentions that she has been raped before, and largely because of this, she is, at first, desensitized. This will be explained in later chapters.

Additionally, when Severus says "Look into my eyes", he is inviting Darcy to explore the good things he has done in his life, and how he has loved. This gives her a glimpse enough to know that he is not a complete monster.

Sorry that it wasn't very long. I simply wanted to be done with it.

As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.


	9. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

He awoke in a dazed stupor, his pupils wide, his hands tingling. Severus tried to get out of bed but found he could not. Mentally, he kicked himself. He should have known better than to mix a Dreamless Sleep potion with alcohol.

Severus turned his head. His whole body felt paralyzed, as though he had been shaken awake in the midst of dreaming. There was a mermaid looking in through the porthole, its ugly face puckered against the glass. He half-heartedly raised a hand to shoo it away. It swam deeper into the lake, scaled tale disappearing from view.

Slowly, he brought his trembling fingers up to touch his pillow. It was wet. With tears, he wondered? With sweat from the forced repression of his unrelenting guilt? A boulder, again, found its way to his throat. This feeling was going to dig its claws into him and hold on for a very long time.

He was finally able to swing his legs over the side of the four-poster bed. Light was filtering through the lake water, dancing in white patterns on the stone floor. Severus looked back down at the bed, thinking of her laying there, unconscious and half-naked. He brought his whitened knuckles to his mouth to restrain his cries and wandered slowly towards the kitchen, despite the fact that his appetite had been dead for the better part of two days.

There was nothing in the ice box except a half-drained flask of pumpkin juice, firewhiskey, nettle wine and his supply of Dreamless Sleep potions. He closed it apathetically and turned toward the pantry. On the first shelf was the remainder of Darcy's cookies. He laughed bitterly and destroyed them with a flick of his wand.

Apparently, Severus had no choice but to attend breakfast.

When he entered the Great Hall, he was met with an enthusiastic burst of laughter. Severus sneered. Darcy looked to be the life of the party, telling some joke or another. The girl clearly had the rest of the staff eating out of the palm of her hand. She appeared to be in high spirits. Severus felt relief at the fact that the memory had not surfaced.

"Severus!" Dumbledore called, smiling. "We were wondering when you would join us."

"Yes, Headmaster," Severus murmured, then noticed that Darcy was sitting next to someone different.

"Lupin!" Snape barked, incredulous. "What in the devil are you doing here?"

"Well it's nice to see you too, Severus," Lupin smiled wanly. His robes were tattered, patched and slightly dirty. His face was more lined than Severus remembered it, and the circles under his eyes were darker. He had a fork poised between his fingers, his plate of eggs and sausage untouched.

"I am visiting Darcy. She is my cousin, you see," Lupin informed him, pushing the food around his plate absentmindedly. Snape snorted and took his place between Quirrell and Sinistra.

"I was not aware you allowed werewolves to dine with the staff, Headmaster," Severus hissed viciously. Several of his colleagues gasped at the remark, but others seemed to agree with him in silence.

"As you can plainly see, Severus, the moon is not overhead, nor is Remus covered in fur," Dumbledore said icily, his voice implying warning. Severus glared at his food but decided not to push Dumbledore further. As he looked down at his plate he could feel Darcy's stare boring into his cheek.

Severus gritted his teeth through the uncomfortably silent meal and ate little. After a reasonable amount of time had passed, he pushed back his chair in haste and, ignoring it as it clattered to the floor, swiftly left the hall, his cloak trailing behind him.

"A well-endowed female. A brunette, preferably," Severus muttered, shoving the newly minted coins under the tiny window in the lobby of the musty brothel. The clerk, a thin, balding man, took them, his eyes downcast. Severus glanced around. There were no windows in the room; only several winged armchairs and an oriental rug. As he looked to the left he saw a hallway which was punctuated by endless doors, all different colors.

He felt a book nudge his hand and looked down.

"That's our catalogue, that is," The man informed him. He lit a cigarette. "Plenty a' well endowed missies in there. Take yer pick."

Smoke drifted lazily through the box window as Severus flicked through the pages. He inhaled it into his lungs; the smell comforted him, reminding him of his days as a schoolboy in Hogwarts. He'd given up smoking years ago but occasionally longed to pick up the habit again. The scent and the memory of the nicotine sparked a sudden craving.

Trying to ignore the smoke-lust, his finger stopped on the picture of a voluptuous young girl – couldn't have been any more than twenty – who was dressed only in a Hogwarts uniform skirt and a green-and-silver striped tie.

"Who is she?" Severus asked, still gazing at the girl, her large breasts bare and enticing, her blue eyes dancing with lust. She curled a finger at him, persuading him to take her.

"Ah, one of our finest girls. Her name be Alicia. Is that yer choice?" The man asked.

"Er – yes. Yes." Severus decided. The man smiled lecherously.

"Very well, sir. I'll get me keys and take ye to the room."

The man jingled a large ring of keys and walked ahead of him down the long and winding hallway. After walking several paces, he stopped in front of a green and silver door, the frame carved into hissing snakes. He knocked first, then slipped a silver key into the lock. The door swung open.

"Alicia? Are ye ready for ye client?" He shouted hoarsely into the bedroom.

"Oh yes, Tibbits, let him in!" A low, feminine voice replied. Tibbits gave Severus a knowing smile, patted him briefly on the shoulder and took his leave. Severus quickly stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

The walls were draped in green velvet, covering dark wood paneling. The wooden floor was blanketed by an oversize wolverine-pelt rug, its fangs bared menacingly. In one corner of the room sat a green velveteen love seat, and across from that a coffee table with a silver tea seat and potpourri. There was a wardrobe on the other side and a small shelf for brandy, wine, and whiskey. In the center of the room was a gigantic green and silver bed, dripping with fine linen and adorned with large, ornately jeweled pillows. It was crowned by a semi-transparent silver canopy.

"Admiring my dormitory?" A voice said behind him. Severus turned to see Alicia, dressed in an altered version of the Hogwarts uniform. The normally demure gray skirt was drastically shortened. The white shirt revealed her tight, flat belly and her gray stockings were pulled up mid-thigh, held in place by gray garters. Her oxfords were high-heeled and adorned with leather bows.

Alicia was prettier than her picture implied. She had full, red lips, large blue eyes sheltered by sweeping eyelashes, and high, regal cheekbones. Her long brunette hair was expertly styled in two ribbon-bound pigtails.

"Indeed, it is rather...lavish," Severus remarked. Alicia smirked, wonderingly slowly over to him. Severus's cock twitched in his pants as she stroked his neck with one long-nailed finger.

"What are you in the mood for...?" She trailed, at a loss at how to address him.

"Professor," Severus said.

"Ah, yes, Professor," Alicia crooned, softly planting a trail of kisses down his neck. Severus's erection was quickly evolving from hard to stiff.

Only using her hands, Alicia removed her top to reveal her full breasts, nipples pink and hard. Severus choked back a moan and cupped one of her breasts in his hand, massaging the nipple with his thumb. She groaned into his neck.

"Professor, can this be considered extra credit?" Alicia whispered, her breath hot on Severus's ear.

"Yes," he gasped as her hand found his twitching cock. She pulled down his trousers and took the throbbing member in her hand, stroking it slowly. Biting the inside of his cheek, Severus slipped his hand under her skirt and felt her full, smooth buttock.

Alicia stepped back and let her skirt fall to the floor, now completely nude save for her garters and stockings. Severus stared at her, drinking in the beauty and impossibility of her perfect, proportional body.

"Don't you want me, Professor?" She whispered, allowing her own hands to explore the most private places of her body. "Mmm...will you take me, Professor?"

Trying to ignore the strange churning feeling in his stomach, Severus lead her to the bed. She lied down submissively, squeezing her breasts in anticipation. Severus removed his trousers and straddled her, perching between her smooth legs.

Suddenly, his erection began to soften. The scene was too fresh, too familiar. His stomach lurched and he shuddered, trying desperately not to be sick. Beneath him, she was Darcy, naked and broken by his rage. Hurried and sporadic, Severus climbed down from the tall bed and yanked on his trousers and shoes, flicking his wand to tie the laces.

"What in the bloody...?" Alicia muttered incredulously. "Where are you going? Come back!"

Severus ignored her. Alicia stumbled forward and grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to detain him but he jerked away from her hand. Without looking over his shoulder he fled, walking as quickly as he could without breaking into a panicked jog.

"Hope ye had a good time, come back soon!" Tibbits called, but Severus had already gone.

His eyebrow twitched. Severus raised a finger to it in hopes to calm the spasming muscle. His mouth was set in a grimace that no whore could alter. He felt horrible, and that was it. He almost laughed when he realized that he had thought that a purchased tryst could somehow relieve him. No, no rendezvous in a Hogsmede brother could make him forget what he had done. If anything, he would have to drown it in drink.

"Will this be all for you, sir?" The clerk asked, pushing the cigarettes into Severus's hand.

_Or suffocate it with smoke_, he mused, fingering the package eagerly. It had been so long.

"Yes," he answered, handing over the two sickles. Tucking the cigarettes into his pocket, he ventured forth into Hogsmede and hailed a carriage back to Hogwarts.

As he approached the doors of the Entrance Hall, he saw a figure walking towards him. Lupin waved, smiling slightly, his other hand resting on his wand, which was tucked into the belt of his trousers.

"Good afternoon, Lupin," Severus said curtly.

"Good afternoon, Severus," Lupin replied. "I wondered if I might have a word."

"Actually, I have business to attend to. You understand, of course," Severus drawled, glaring at him.

"Ah, but this won't take but a minute! Let's have a stroll about the grounds, I insist," Lupin smiled, gesturing to the lavish flora of the well-manicured Hogwarts grounds. Sneering, Severus walked in step with him, thinking that if he annoyed him enough he could simply hex him and return to his quarters.

"I'll cut right to the chase," Lupin informed him.

"Yes, please do," Severus glared. "I have better things to do than waste perfectly good time conversing idly with half-breeds."

Lupin looked wounded, and Severus turned his attention to the lake, which they were slowly approaching. It was full to the brim, reflecting the hot sun like a gigantic mirror.

"There are memories I'd like for you to have," Lupin fished a small bottle out of his ratty shirt pocket. It was filled with churning silver liquid. "It is a collection which I do not need. They are of you and Lily...I'm not sure whether that would cause you pain or not. However, I figured it had been long enough...if you do not wish to view them yet, you can store them away, or whatever. They are yours to do with what you wish."

Severus stared coldly into him, attempting to overturn any hidden motives. It appeared there were none. He did not know whether to be thankful or angry. Gingerly, Severus took the bottle in his fingers and put it in his pocket next to the cigarettes.

"Thank you...I suppose," Severus murmured, his lips pursing slightly. "This is not the real reason you are here, is it?"

"No, no, I did wish to visit with Darcy. However, I thought I might as well kill two birds with one stone." Lupin paused, looking thoughtfully at Severus, whose brow furrowed. "Severus, I never hated you. Perhaps I did not speak up for you but I did not assist in planning any of the things Sirius and James did to you. I am sorry, though, that I did not take action on your behalf."

A blush tinged Severus's pale cheeks. He laughed bitterly. "I do not see what it presently matters, Lupin. Your little gang was dissolved long ago. Two members are dead and one is in Azkaban, left to rot with the dementors. And you? By the state of your robes you don't appear to be employed; that much is certain," Severus ruthlessly spat.

"Do not dare try and gild my opinion of you by exposing your inaction. It does not clear you of guilt, Lupin. Your hands were just as bloody as theirs!"

Severus turned on heel and strode towards the castle, leaving a dumbfounded Lupin behind him.

_Stupid fucking mutant half-breed_, Severus inwardly seethed, ignoring Dumbledore's rules and lighting a cigarette as he walked through the chilly dungeons. He would have smashed the damn bottle had his curiosity and pathetic bleeding heart not gotten the better of him. Lily. Perhaps he would never let go.

When he got to the portrait he hurriedly mumbled the password, taking an especially long drag and savoring the feeling of the smoke flowing lazily into his lungs. As the portrait swung open he exhaled and a large cloud of green smoke ballooned in the air.

"To hell with you, Lupin!" Severus spat, seizing the bottle and throwing his fist back, meaning to smash it and watch the liquid evaporate into nonexistence. However, he found his hand would not move forward. Teeth gnashing, Severus clenched the bottle and moved his arm back again, but he could not allow himself to destroy its contents. Sighing in exasperation, he placed it on the table and fell weakly to a nearby chair, sucking on his cigarette until it burnt down to the butt and reproduced itself in between his trembling fingers.

Authors Note:

I apologize for the lack of updates. Finals are approaching and I have been incredibly busy with school and work. Come June, hopefully updates will be more frequently.

I also apologize for the fact that this chapter probably qualifies as filler. I'm sort of at a loss of what to write next, for most of my bigger plans are centered around Sage's adolescence. If anyone has any ideas, any ideas at all, please do not hesitate to let me know! You will be credited accordingly and showered with my undying gratitude. :)


	10. Lover I Don't Have to Love

Darcy stood at the counter, dunking the teabag into the pot, savoring the steam that was winding into her nostrils. There was no window to glance absentmindedly out. She focused on the boring stone pattern of the counter below her and hardly noticed when the water became saturated with tea.

As she turned around with the pot and two cups on saucers in hand, her dry eyes were met with a cloud of smoke. She glared at him, shaking her head to rid herself of irritation. Remus took another drag from his cigarette and exhaled in the other direction.

"Sorry, Darc," He murmured, smashing the butt into the black obsidian ashtray, which was shaped like the mouth of a gargoyle. Darcy placed the teacup in front of him and the pot between them both as she took her seat.

"No problem," she stiffly replied. Through pursed lips, she sipped her drink, her elbows clutched slightly to her chest, staring down fixedly at the gray table. She wondered about the child. Sage. Pretty little thing. The last Darcy had seen, she'd been studying French with her Uncle, but that wasn't all they were studying; he'd worked in quite a curriculum devoted solely to Dark Arts. The fool. Did he think the child would go back to her father in utter silence? She almost snorted into her tea.

It had been days since she had secretly visited Sage at her Uncle's. She did love to gaze at the innocent thing, but was careful not to be noticed. Twice she'd very nearly had an open door strike her, and experienced a handful more of incidences involving Brutus or another one of the family almost stepping on her. Yes, it was risky, but it was the assignment she'd taken, and she was concerned about the girl anyhow.

Whatever Severus thought, she very clearly remembered the rape, and all that had happened before and after. She felt determined to avenge herself and teach the bastard a lesson somehow, but only his love for Sage was holding Darcy back. If he had been childless, she'd have his genitalia in a jar on her desk.

"Why are you so quiet?" Remus asked. He lit another cigarette, his chapped lips wrapped around the end, rubbing the coarse stubble on his face.

Darcy sipped her tea slowly. It was only lukewarm now. "Oh, you know. Just thinking."

Remus rested his hand on the table, cigarette held between his fingers. "If you're feeling awkward about the marriage contract, I had it invalidated a month ago."

She looked up. "That wasn't it, but that's good news all the same." Darcy put down the tea and eyed the cigarette. "May I have one of those?"

Remus stared. "You don't smoke. Do you?"

"No, but what does it matter?" Darcy shrugged. Remus frowned, but took a cigarette from his pack nonetheless and lit it for her with the tip of his wand. Naturally, she inhaled the smoke. She was immediately nauseated. It tasted disgusting, but she forced herself not to choke. There was no way she was going to look like a fool.

"You might as well cough," Remus smiled wanly. "That burning won't go away anytime soon."

Darcy let out the aching breath she'd been holding, angry to see Remus chuckling at her. "Shut up, Remus," she said sorely. "Let me try again."

"Maybe tomorrow," He replied, tucking his wand back into his belt. "As I was saying, it took some convincing to allow our parents and grandparents _and _great-grandparents to consent to destroying the contract, but with your written statement it wasn't as trying as I had anticipated."

"God, what a relief. Only disgusting, purebred elitists marry their cousins nowadays."

"Might I point out you're insulting the very people that gave you life?" Remus said playfully.

Darcy stuck a fingertip in the tea. It was cold now. The dungeons were definitely not the place to drink anything hot if there wasn't a roaring fire underneath. She heated the cup with her wand.

"Well, what else is wrong?"

"What?"

"You know, you said the contract wasn't it. What's bothering you, Darc?"

"Er, nothing," she replied uncomfortably. "Really, it's nothing. Let's leave it at that."

"You can tell me. I won't crucify you for it, whatever it is," Remus told her, exhaling smoke.

"It isn't something I did," she muttered. "It's only...you know Severus has a daughter, correct? Sage?"

"Yes, I know," Remus replied, looking confused. "Why?"

"I just...do you think he's fit to be her father? He seems so, er...angry," Darcy shifted in her seat.

Remus looked thoughtfully at her, then slowly replied: "I think that Severus is bitter, cold, spiteful, and more tightly wound than any other human being I've met in my life, but I don't think any of those things could stop him from caring for his own flesh and blood."

"You really believe that?"

"Yes."

Absently, Darcy rubbed at her thighs. The bruises still lingered, even if they could not be seen.

"You had better give me another cigarette."

Severus arrived in the massive brick fireplace at Squire Manor and brushed the soot off of his black robes. He stepped out into the parlor, looking around curiously. He had not seen the inside of Squire Manor since he was no more than six years old. Brutus had always come and played with him at his own house, he remembered that very well.

Not much had changed in his absence. The same white-cushioned and dark wood furniture stood firmly on the stone floor across from a large stained glass window, depicting the family crest. Books were neatly arranged in the multiple bookshelves that stood around the perimeter of the spacious room. There was a painting of his great-grandfather, Squire Arthur Prince over the fireplace. The old man raised an eyebrow at him.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" The Squire asked. He crossed his arms over his fat belly, which was hidden by his black robes.

"I am Severus Snape, son of Eileen Prince. Can you tell me the whereabouts of Brutus?" Severus asked, drawling. The painting squinted.

"Ah, yes, yes, very well...let me see...I believe he is with the child, studying in the library."

Snape nodded curtly and made his way into the hall, where the walls were plastered with paintings of various deceased family members. Annoyed that he was reminded of Hogwarts, he walked more quickly, using his childlike memory of the looming manor, and opened the door at the end of the hall.

Sage was perched on a high-backed red velveteen armchair, wearing a gorgeous dress of regal purple, a yellowed book open on her lap. Brutus was across from her, stroking the fire, muttering to himself.

"Father?" Sage looked incredulously at him. Severus had to force his twitching mouth not to form a delighted smile.

"Sage," He murmured. Brutus turned to look at them.

"Severus!" Brutus warmly said. "You should have informed me of your visit, I would have prepared lunch."

But Severus was paying no attention to his cousin. He watched his daughter as she placed the book gently on the small coffee table between the chairs and walked slowly towards him, her hands laced together behind the small of her back. Sage curtsied delicately. She unlaced her hands and offered one to Severus, who took it and kissed it lightly.

"I see you've taught my daughter the manners of a courtier," Severus said to Brutus. Sage smiled modestly.

"With beauty and manners, she will be married easily," Brutus said matter-of-factly. Something inside Severus squirmed uncomfortably.

"Yes, indeed," Severus quietly agreed. Without further hesitation, he lifted Sage into his arms, eager for the smell of her hair, which was as pure and lovely as he remembered. She linked her arms around his neck, nuzzling his shoulder.

"I have missed you, Father..._mon père,_" Sage murmured. He squeezed her tighter; how blessed he was to have such an intelligent daughter. Of course, there was no question he would have settled for anything less.

"And you are still learning your French?" Severus inquired, cocking an eyebrow, which caused Sage to burst into a fit of giggles. Brutus had finished with the fire and was now facing them again.

"She is almost fluent," he said proudly.

"Father, why didn't you send a letter back?" Sage asked, frowning. Severus felt guilt swell inside of him. "I've been waiting."

"I'm sorry, love. I've been busy," Severus told her, smoothing a stray hair from her forehead. "You will forgive me?"

"Of course," she grinned. Sage suddenly struggled in his arms, and Severus let her to her feet again. She scampered from the room, leaving him curious, and returned with a bottle of light blue liquid in hand.

"Drink this!" She told him, shoving it under his nose, beaming with pride.

_Funny how quickly she seems to forget her manners_, Severus inwardly mused.

"What is it?" Severus asked, playing along. It was obviously a Cheering Potion, but he didn't want to spoil her mood.

"Drink it, please, Father?" Sage pouted. He sighed indulgently and took the bottle from her tiny fingers.

"Very well. If I do, will you agree not pester me with any more of your concoctions?" Severus asked, cocking an eyebrow. Sage giggled again.

"Yes, yes. Please drink it!"

Severus uncorked the flask, inhaling the vapors emitted from the light blue potion, which smelt of daisies and treacle tart and tasted just as sweet. He finished it quickly and placed the flask on the coffee table. Immediately he felt euphoric; mostly because of the purpose of the potion but partly, he rejoiced, because Sage had accomplished such an unlikely task for a girl of her age. He seized her in his arms and spun her delightedly around the room, laughing and smiling.

"Er, Severus - " Brutus interjected. Normally, Severus would have glowered at him, and spat a sarcastic remark of his choosing. However, under the influence of the Cheering Potion, he merely stopped spinning and smiled at his cousin.

"Yes, Brutus?"

"I was wondering if I might have a word with you? In private?" Brutus edged toward the door. Severus cast a quick Barrier Charm over the fireplace and turned to Sage.

"Stay here, Sage. I'll be right back." Sage nodded and went back to reading her book.

Severus walked out with Brutus, wondering what this could possibly be about, still smiling like an idiot. Brutus lead him into the parlor, where Severus relaxed on the musty antique loveseat.

"Do you mind if I smoke a cigarette, Brutus?" Severus asked. Brutus made a permitting gesture and Severus lit up, puffing green smoke into the room.

"Severus...I need a favor," Brutus began, his eerie golden eyes downcast. His palms were open in his lap. "As compensation for educating Sage. That's how I'd like to view the matter, anyhow."

"What do you need?" Severus asked, unable to wipe the stupid smile of his face. He took a longer drag, holding the smoke in his prickling lungs.

"Er, well..." Brutus looked extremely uncomfortable. "Sage started her courses a week ago."

The effects of the potion were below the alarm that Severus felt. "Good God, man! She's only five years old, how is that possible? She's a witch, but even so, they shouldn't begin for another year at the very least..."

"I know," Brutus muttered. "We took her to St. Mungo's, thought it better to wait to tell you -"

"You fool!" Severus hissed. "How dare you not inform me of this?"

"I'm sorry!" Brutus put his hands up in surrender, his narrow, white face especially pale. "The Healer told us it was nothing to worry about, that it was normal, and then talked to Sage himself."

"And?" Severus spat.

"And we performed the necessary spell to rid her of any discomfort," Brutus said lightly. He looked tense, as though he believed Severus might pounce on him at any given moment, claws bared.

"So what is this _favor_ you wanted, Brutus?" Severus asked sharply, taking another drag. "What is this incredible favor that you had to drug me with a Cheering Potion for me to grant – which, might I add, was useless because my own anger and alarm overruled the effects of it. You idiot, you did not do your research!"

"I had better not ask, now..." Brutus was fumbling with his sleeve.

"JUST SAY IT!" Severus bellowed.

"I need – I need her blood, Severus," Brutus choked, his eyes bugging out. Clearly, things were not going as he had planned.

Severus stared intensely at him, his eyebrows dangerously close together. His blood was boiling.

"I hope, for your safety, that I have misunderstood what you are asking for."

"Listen – you know Anne and I have been having problems -"

"AND SO YOU NEED MY DAUGHTER'S MENSTRUAL BLOOD TO CONCOCT SOME APHRODISIAC?" Severus screamed, a vein pulsating in his forehead. He had leapt from his chair and his hands were now clamped on the arms of Brutus's chair, which sounded as though it were splintering from the pressure. "You disgusting, perverted _filth_ - "

"It needs to be from a virgin!" Brutus cried, almost in tears. He was visibly trembling. "I'm sorry, but I'm scared that I'll lose Anne! Things are not like they used to be - "

"I DON'T CARE IF YOUR COCK FALLS OFF!" Severus shouted again, his spit raining down on Brutus's face. He did not dare wipe it off. "How humiliating it is to call you my relative. I am taking my daughter away today. Don't expect to hear from me again – although I may divulge some interesting things to other members of our family."

What little color had been left in Brutus's face drained. Severus turned on heel and flicked his wand, summoning Sage's belongings. She came out into the hall, clutching her book and looking bewildered.

"What's wrong, Father? What was all that shouting - "

"Never you mind," Severus snarled, seizing her at the waist. She let out a small squeal. "You are coming to Hogwarts with me. Your Uncle Brutus is obviously unfit to handle your education."

"What? But -"

"SILENCE!" Severus roared. Sage whimpered, but he offered no apology. As soon as all of Sage's things had gathered and compressed themselves into her trunk, he waved it into the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the snuffbox on the mantle and shouted, "Hogwarts Castle!"


	11. Green Eyes

The fire was roaring in the fireplace before them, flames of garnet and amber licking the stone walls of the hearth desperately, smoke swirling out into the cool, humid night through the long and winding neck of the chimney. Her face was soft, relaxed, expressionless. Two cups of hot cocoa sat next to the armchair, one finished, one only half empty. Sage snugged in Severus's lap, clutching the knitted Slytherin throw that was covering her tiny body.

"Father, tell me a story," she murmured, nuzzling his neck. He smoothed her hair from her eyes. He half-longed to hear her address him as "Daddy" once more.

"I think it is time for bed, young lady," He told her, his thumb running over her pink cheek. She groaned softly.

"Just one story," she sleepily pleaded. "Just one."

Severus sighed. "Very well. What sort of story?"

Sage smiled. "A nice one."

As Severus felt the vial of memories that Lupin had given him earlier in the inner pocket of his robes, he felt he knew just the right story to tell. Sighing, he positioned Sage more comfortably in his lap and looked down at her.

"There once was a boy. He was thoroughly unpleasant, I guarantee you would not have liked him."

Sage giggled.

"This boy attended Hogwarts, and he met a very pretty girl -"

"Did they _kiss_?" Sage giggled uncontrollably, her belly jumping with laughter against Severus's abdomen.

"Oh, you silly thing." Severus scolded. "Yes, yes."

"They fancied each other?" She inquired, her eyes now half-open.

"Something like that," Severus replied, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "They graduated school and married each other, and had a child. His name was Harry, and you played with him when you were only three years old."

"I don't remember that," Sage said.

"I would be shocked if you did," Severus told her, smiling slightly. "They were very happy, and lived in limerence for as long as they were allowed."

"How long was that, Father?" Sage was now wrapping a stand of his slightly oily hair around her finger, unaware of the texture.

"One year. One very short year," He said quietly, staring into the fire. Jeweled flames, hungry for something to burn.

"Was this lady your friend?" Sage inquired, still twirling the strand of hair. He gently removed her hand.

"You might have said that," He said, quieter still. Something large and dark was moving past the porthole to the lake, blocking the silky white glow of the moon that normally purified the murky waters. Shivering, Severus turned his gaze back to the fire.

"Maybe I have more hot chocolate?" Sage prodded him, jerking him from his thoughts.

"No, you've had all yours," He told her, lifting her under the arms so that her head was resting on his shoulder and moving towards her bed.

"May I have yours, Father?"

Severus almost chuckled, then caught himself. "No. It is time for bed, Sage." Severus laid her slowly on the cot, which resided in his spare room. Her trunk lay unopened at the foot of the cot. He would have to go into Hogsmede and find a new handcrafted bed for her, he thought.

As he tucked her in, he admired the way her red hair fanned out across the pillow, shining in the dim torchlight. Severus kissed her forehead and she said nothing. With his wand, he extinguished the torch and exited the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

They had arrived that afternoon, Severus in a rage, Sage confused and fussy. Severus had hardly been able to explain to Dumbledore what had happened without seething. Dumbledore had looked concerned, and sympathetic. He had agreed to allow Sage to stay at Hogwarts as long as Severus preferred, as there were no other suitable relatives to look after her. After their conversation, Dumbledore had seemed to believe that Severus would be able to care for her without neglecting her in the least, and for this understanding Severus was glad.

Severus clutched suddenly at the vial near his heart. Telling her the story of Lily and James had bothered him. He wondered if he would ever tell her about her mother – well, he supposed he would have to, sooner or later. She was getting old enough to ask questions, and he would eventually have to answer them.

_But for now,_ He thought, _She will remain small and innocent and unstained by the cruelty of this earth...she does not have to know a thing._

He removed the vial from his pocket and stared at the glimmering contents, liquid wind in his palm. He had borrowed the Pensive from Dumbledore that afternoon and it was sitting safely in his cabinet, stirring and spinning inside the stone bowl and just waiting to be used. Still, he stared at the vial, wondering what memories it could possibly contain. Would Lupin give him memories of Lily and James together, just to spite him? No, he sincerely doubted that. Lupin was a conformist but never truly cruel.

_Cruelty is not always a bounded term_, Severus thought to himself.

He glanced towards the porthole again, remembering when he and Lily had swam in that lake at night, braving grindylows, the giant squid, and numerous other dangers for the sake of foolish teenage adventure and the adrenaline rush that accompanied it. He remembered fighting off the carnivorous kelp that had tried to devour her and lying breathless on the shore after, her smiling against his naked, heaving chest, both of them covered in drying mud from floundering about in the sand.

Severus was smiling nostalgically. He walked slowly, noting the insect-like clicking of his shoes on the cold stone floor and retrieved the Pensive from the cabinet. Severus placed it with a dull thud on the counter top and looked upon the surface, a turmoil of silvery substance. Without any further hesitation, he uncorked the bottle, poured out the memories and dipped his head into the basin.

Severus recognized where he stood at once: the waiting room at St. Mungo's. He glanced around at the chaos. The walls around him were diluted, washed of the color he had remembered them. The entire scene seemed to be underneath a thin gray veil. Lupin was pacing back and forth, his hands laced behind his back, sweating and mumbling nervously. The nurse at the front desk watched him curiously, her old face showing slight alarm.

Severus laughed, but the laugh came out more of a bark. He remembered this day all too clearly. It was the day of Sage's birth.

The double doors burst open, and Lily was floating on a stretcher, clutching her bulbous belly and moaning in pain. Lupin rushed to her, his eyes wide.

"Lily! Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I -"

"No! No! Just don't – tell – James – I'm – here!" Lily hissed and moaned through a contraction, her eyes shut tightly. Two attendants held back her wrists with their free hands so she could not clutch at her belly.

"What do you want me to tell him?" Lupin inquired, looking more nerve-racked by the second. Lily let out an exasperated cry.

"I DON'T CARE, LIE! I DON'T CARE!" She bellowed, seething. They were carrying her into the next room.

"Can't you give her a spell to relieve the pain?" Lupin cried helplessly to the attendants.

"Only the Healer can!" One of them called back. The door shut behind them and her pained cries were muffled.

"Bloody stupid rule," Lupin growled. Severus stared closely at him. Lupin retrieved something from his back pocket, something that looked like a hand mirror. Severus snorted. He had seen that before; it was part of a set that their lot used in detentions.

"Well, where is she?" Potter's voice came floating out from the mirror. Lupin frowned.

"Her parents say she went out with friends." Lupin casually lied.

"Alright. Thanks, Moony," James's voice sighed, and Lupin closed the mirror with a snap. At once, he turned and half-walked, half-jogged to the delivery room, Severus in his wake.

As they entered, they saw Lily splayed on a bed, her legs spread, a blanket over her knees. Severus saw himself standing beside her, looking deathly pale and clasping her hand. Lupin went to her other side and stared concernedly down at her, hardly noticing Severus at all.

"Where in bloody fucking hell is Healer Ebbons?" Lily growled, looking murderous. Her teeth were clenched in agony. Severus saw Lupin gulp.

"I'll go find him," Severus saw himself snarl. He left the room dramatically, his robes fanning out behind him.

Suddenly, the memory changed. It was apparent that several hours had passed. Lily looked relaxed, but the look on her face was still one of concentration. Several beads of sweat remained on her temple. Severus remembered that the spell they had administered on her would relieve her of pain, but she would still feel pressure. They would use more spells and potions along the way to keep the birth easy. Severus stood next to his memory-self and reached out to Lily, knowing that his hand would fall right through.

He saw the face of his memory-self rearrange in shock and look towards Healer Ebbons. Lily groaned a small body appeared in his arms, covered in blood and membrane. He siphoned the emissions with his wand and wrapped the baby in a warm blanket, charmed to remain at a comfortable temperature for the newborn. Severus saw his own face crack into a grin as the baby was placed in Lily's arms. A tear slipped down her cheek and fell onto the child's forehead.

"It's a girl, Miss Evans. What would you like to name her?" Healer Ebbons asked, his wand ready at the blank birth certificate. Lily looked at Severus and smiled at him. Their daughter had begun to wail.

"Sage," Lily said. "Sage Evans."

The Healer's wand scribbled the name on the certificate, which was then placed in memory-Severus's hands. Lupin smiled in the corner, tears glistening in his eyes. Severus remembered wanting nothing more than to throw Lupin out of the room, but Lily had told him time and again that he was the only one who would keep this secret from James, and the only one who could have possibly watched over her while Severus was away. She felt that she owed this experience to him. He remembered going through Death Eater raids, thinking of nothing but Lily, and despising himself for placing himself in such a terrible and foolish position while his pregnant – ex-lover? ex-girlfriend? which was the right word? - sat with her friend, the werewolf, awaiting the arrival of their child.

He saw himself kiss his daughter on the head and place his hand on Lily's shoulder, both of them ignoring the fact that they had been broken up for some time. Severus rubbed his fingers, remembering how soft her skin was.

The scene shifted again. Severus was drowning in a sea of costumed teenagers, bats swooping down from all angles, candy falling slowly from the ceiling, which was magicked to behold an orange slice of moon. The Halloween Ball...he remembered it vividly. He saw the band, The Dodgy Boggarts, all of whom had died the next week in a potion mishap, playing enthusiastically on a stage Dumbledore had set up where the staff table usually was.

Severus moved unnoticed through the throng of bodies. When he reached the front of the room, he saw himself, younger, actually smiling, twirling Lily round. They were dressed in Tudor costume, her dress blooming above her silk-slippered feet, his leather riding boots clapping the floor as they danced. Severus could see Potter's gang of idiots staring at them from a distant corner. Potter, who was dressed as a lion – mane and all – was dripping with desperate girls, but he did not seem to notice. He was crushing peanut shells violently in his hand, the dust of the shells falling through his fingers and onto the floor. He watched Lily intensely as Lupin (a knight), Sirius (a pirate), and Peter (a troll) looked concernedly at him, occasionally sharing commiserative glances. Very soon, however, Peter became distracted by the refreshment table, and Sirius and Lupin by the group of girls that had migrated flirtatiously towards them.

"Perhaps tonight I might visit you in our room?" Severus heard Lily said as she ran a fingertip down the nape of his neck. Severus shivered; he remembered exactly how sensational that felt.

"Perhaps," he heard himself softly growl. "I will wait there for you, if that is what you wish, m'lady."

"Yes, m'lord," Lily smirked. She kissed his jaw softly, and Severus remembered having to fight a rather insistent erection. He almost laughed out loud at the thought.

Curiously, Severus looked toward Potter and his gang again. The girls had gone and they were talking in low voices, glancing occasionally toward Severus and Lily. Still keeping his eye on his young self and Lily, Severus walked slowly towards the group, finally able to hear their low voices over the dull roar of the music and the crowd when he stood next to Potter.

"-don't know what she's doing," he was saying. "I thought she was bored of him...why else would she come to me?"

Severus's stomach seemed to drop past his legs. What was Potter talking about?

"I dunno, Padfoot," Sirius said, taking a swig on pumpkin juice. "If you ask me, she's being a bit of a -"

"Don't say it," James warned him. Sirius raised his eyebrows, then shrugged and drank the rest of the juice from his goblet.

"Well, she can't _love_ him, can she? _Snivellus_? C'mon, James, even you aren't thick enough to think that," Sirius told him, grinning.

James laughed, but the laugh didn't quite reach his eyes. He was still staring at young Severus and Lily, twirling around and around on the dance floor.

"I don't understand how she can even tolerate that greasy git!" he suddenly seethed. "This is ridiculous! What in bloody hell does he have that I don't?"

"Intelligence!" Severus barked at the memory of Potter, wishing he was alive again only to hear the truth. "Ambition, modesty, consideration and romance! You decrepit sod, you -"

"-worry about it, Prongs," Lupin was saying. "She'll come to you in the end."

"Moony's right," Sirius said, clapping James on the shoulder. "She wouldn't pick that hook-nosed bastard over you! You're James Potter."

James smiled; the look on his face clearly said he believed every word of what Sirius had told him, and wouldn't bother to be modest about it.

Severus wanted to take a swing at that smiling, arrogant face, but he knew it would be a waste of energy. James Potter was dead, and had been for some time. Turning, he saw his younger self and Lily smiling and whispering as they headed out of the Great Hall. He thought of following them, but doubted Lupin's memory would allow it.

He pulled himself forth from the Pensive. The fire was lower now, flames licking the last whitened logs. He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose, and turned to see Sage standing in the doorway, her hair disheveled, her tiny hand clutching a blanket that was dragging on the floor.

"Daddy?" She rubbed her face. "Why were you shouting?"

Severus pressed his lips together. His clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. "Nothing, Sage. Just a nightmare. Go back to bed."

The child looked confused, but nevertheless turned slowly and went back into her room. Severus wearily went to the loveseat and curled up on it like a small child, his eyes shut tightly against the last of the flickering light.


	12. Whatever's Left

Authors Note: So I tried to write and this is the result. I don't know if it fits or anything. I may delete it and rewrite everything. Or maybe everyone will like it...review and let me know.

_I will always love you._

Severus read the engraving again and again, turning the ring over in his palm, though the metal still felt cold on his skin. _I will always love you._ How many times had he whispered that in her ear when they were lying side by side amongst the pillows? How many times had he formed those words in intricate, spindly cursive on the two-way parchment they communicated through in class? How many times had he massaged those letters into her lips, kissing her passionately as he repeated that vow, holding her in his arms until the sun bothered to show its face again?

Too many times. Too many times, and she had worn that ring for Potter.

Severus stared down into the well. The water was black and still, his face and the sky above staring back at him. He thought of his daughter standing behind him, half-asleep, bewildered by his anguished shouts. He thought of nursing a painful hangover most mornings, wincing as he buckled her shoes and walked her to the Great Hall for breakfast. He thought of Darcy's cold, assessing gaze, looking carefully for any stray remark, any unconventional gesture.

They day was beautiful to the point of inspiration; even Severus, a bitter cynic to the end of his days, was forced to admit that. He gazed at the lake beyond the well, admiring the cerulean hue and the ribbons of sun flickering and dancing on the surface. The flora was thriving in the humid weather and the lush heaps of grass danced in the gentle breeze. He clutched the ring in his fist, trying desperately not to remember her face, and the way her hair felt.

He knew that if he was going to give Sage the attention she deserved, he would have to tuck Lily into the back of his mind, into a small crevice where she would not be seen or heard, into a place his idle mind would not actively access.

_Stop being a selfish bastard and move on with your life. She's dead forever._

He steadied his palm so that it would not shake and carefully overturned it above the black glass of the water. The ring broke the calm reflection, making his face look melted and crimped. It was gone.

Severus turned, pushing his thumbs forcefully into his tearing eyes and cursing himself for such weakness. He swallowed the emotional boulder in his throat and strode back towards the castle.

--

The Sorting had ended, and the room was filled with the dull roar of excited students. Severus sneered. Darcy was sitting next to him, tearing into her filet mignon, only pausing for gulps of pumpkin juice. Lupin was attempting to make small talk with her but she didn't seem to be listening. She turned abruptly to Severus, who started. He had not even realized he had been staring.

"Good evening, Professor," she said coolly, then looked to his plate. "You haven't touched your food."

He scowled. "I am not partial to red meat," Severus explained.

Darcy raised her eyebrow at him in a slightly mocking way. "I see."

"Are you pursuing anything through this conversation, Miss Winthrop?" Severus snapped. "If not, I suggest you turn back to your werewolf cousin, who has been unsuccessful in gaining your attention for the past five minutes."

Darcy's face hardened. "How _dare _you speak that way about Remus!"

Severus laughed bitterly, though it sounded more like a bark. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Winthrop, I think I've regained my appetite – or perhaps you fancy my filet mignon? I'd gladly be free of it if it might serve to keep your tongue preoccupied."

Darcy flushed in her anger, but kept her silence. Remus, who had heard the entire exchange, said nothing. They sat awkwardly through the rest of dinner and dessert without saying a word. Severus noticed that Darcy had begun to fidget through Dumbledore's announcements. He smirked as he noticed the blush had spread to her neck.

Suddenly, he felt guilt tugging at his heart like a fishhook. Perhaps he should not have said anything at all, but why did she feel the need to nag at him on a regular basis? Why could she not leave him well enough alone?

He clapped vacantly along with the rest of the room as Dumbledore dismissed the students for bed. The teachers stood slowly, some ushering the students out of the Hall, some merely supervising their departure from a comfortable distance. Severus idly drummed two fingers on the table, impatient to get back to his quarters and see Sage before brewing a new potion. As the last of the students filed out of the room like sand through the neck of an hourglass, he stood to take his leave.

The others had gone. Severus quirked one eyebrow at the sight of the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall leaving hand in hand, but decided he was better off not knowing. He was halfway through the room when he felt a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn towards its owner.

It was Darcy, and her wand was pointed directly between his eyes, a look of cold fury hardening her features. Her lips were set in a thin, white line.

"Don't bother reaching for your wand, I've already got it," Her smirk looked twisted on her angry face. She removed his wand from the inside of her robes, smiling manically as an expression of fear floated across his face. Darcy shook in in front of his face, mocking him.

"Follow me."

Grinding his teeth, he obeyed. She walked behind him and lead him through the secret passage behind the staff table. They entered a room lit with golden torchlight and crowded with high-backed indigo armchairs.

"Sit," she ordered, and he did so, grudgingly. Severus realized that he had broken out into a cold sweat. She must have remembered, there was no other reason for this.

For one terrifying moment, Severus believed that this woman was going to kill him, by magical means or otherwise. She stood towering in front of him, tall and pale, her eyes glittering from the torchlight, a reckless and psychotic expression set upon her face. Everything about her appearance screamed that she did not care about the consequences of her actions. Her nostrils were flaring with each heavy, laboring breath, her chest heaving uncontrollably. Darcy's white lips quivered, on the verge of spilling forth some poison that she had kept bottled inside her for weeks.

With a piercing, banshee-like scream, she struck him across the cheek as hard as she could with her hand, and they cried out in pain together. Her cry was ethereal, and it turned his blood to ice. He had scarcely heard such concentrated pain exit the mouth of a human being. Her lips were quivering, and she dug her nails deeply in his neck, gripping him until her hands shook. Darcy leaned down next to his ear, her hot breath upon his skin. He closed his eyes.

"You thought...you thought I would not remember...what you did to me?" She asked him, whispering so quietly that he had to strain to hear what she was saying. He could feel her hot tears on rolling from her cheek to his, her breath becoming irregular and panicked. "You thought...that if the bruises disappeared...I would not remember what it felt like?"

Severus could taste bile in the back of his throat. "Miss Winthrop..."

"What could you POSSIBLY have to say to me?" She cried, beginning to sob. Her mascara was running.

Severus was immediately thrown back in to the memory of a Muggle woman he had tortured while in the service of the Dark Lord. She had lain there, helpless and weak in her terry-cloth bathrobe, half-mad with terror and pain from the Cruciatus curse, screaming herself hoarse for help. He had watched as Lucius violated her, fighting not to be sick from the sight of it, as he waved his wand and tried to block out the extent of the horror he was inflicting upon this innocent woman.

And though he had vowed to turn away from such atrocities and repent to the fullest extent of his abilities, he had committed the same crime and destroyed the same innocence. The only difference was this time around he was acting on his own foolish, angry impulses, and was not being forced into action by the looming shadow of the Dark Lord.

Severus clenched his fists in utter shame, at a loss for words. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." He broke into guilty sobs, pressing his palms into his eyes until the pain took over. He saw the blurry shape of Darcy sink to the floor, cradling herself with too-thin arms, tears running from her wide, shocked eyes.

Darcy coughed, choking on her sobs, and, to Severus's great surprised, gave a bitter laugh. "Isn't it funny...you were not supposed to remember that I had given you the Forced Legilimency potion...and I was not supposed to remember that you had raped me..."

Hysterically, she began to laugh; her high, shrieking laughter seemed to rise to the ceiling, lingering like ominous clouds. She was mad, Severus thought. And then she began to cry again.

Unsteady as a newborn gazelle, Darcy rose to her feet, stooped slightly. She withered before his very eyes. Severus's face was soaked with tears and sweat but he dared not move his hands. The grief had finally become overwhelming, and she was hysterical, mad with rage and the horrible pain that came from being violated. She placed her hands on the arms of the chair to steady herself, leaning closer to Severus.

"I am going to hit you again," She told him, smiling eerily. "And I hope it really hurts."

Stars bloomed before his eyes as her fist connected with his cheekbone; Severus was sure it was shattered. He cried out in agony, and fought the urge to strike her. Internally, he argued with himself, attempting to decide whether or not he should defend himself or allow the woman he raped to have her revenge.

"You had me tied up once before, you have already heard me beg your forgiveness," Severus informed her, wincing with each word. His cheek was throbbing terribly.

"_I AM SORRY,_ WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?" He suddenly roared. His patience had grown dangerously thin with each shocking prick of pain.

"I WANT TO HURT YOU AS YOU HURT ME!" She screamed, so close to his face that her spittle fell on his lips, which were set in a grimace. "YOU EXPECTED ME TO MERELY FORGET IT EVER HAPPENED, BUT I DIDN'T! I REMEMBER EVERY MINUTE OF THAT TERRIBLE PAIN, AND IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT! IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT THAT I WAKE UP CRYING FROM NIGHTMARES! YOU CANNOT UNRING A BELL, YOU HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE, TERRIBLE..."

Darcy's screams trailed off with a gasp for breath, and she fell limp to her knees, wheezing horribly. She pounded the stone with her fist, oblivious to any pain it might have caused her, and moaned like a wounded animal.

Severus swallowed dryly. "I'll pay for professional help," he promised. "Anything you need, I'll pay for it all. I can't help you, but there are psychiatrists who can repair the damage I caused, and anything you experienced beforehand."

Darcy looked up at him, her eyes wide and frighteningly red, saliva dribbling from her trembling mouth. "Really? You'll pay for that?" She asked, her voice raw and throaty.

"Anything you want!" He cried, and attempted to regain control of himself. "Anything you desire, Miss Winthrop."

Darcy had finally stopped crying. Her voice was hollow and broken. "I am going to end my apprenticeship. I have enough to tell the Potters, I have no further business here."

As she got to her feet, seeming steadier by the minute, she gave him a hard, cold look.

"I hope you feel fucking terrible," she spat bluntly. "I hope you go soft every time you're with another woman because you think of raping me. I hope this guilt takes hold of your black heart and doesn't let go until your miserable body rots away within the earth. But most of all," She leaned closer to him, her eyes narrowed dangerously, her gaze boring hotly into his skull, "I hope your daughter doesn't really know who you are, and I hope when she eventually does uncover the truth of your horrid personality that she has the courage – and the good sense – to erase you from her life."

Severus stared at her for a minute, wide-eyed as a deer in headlights, then inhaled.

"I hope she does, too."

Darcy laughed, took a cigarette from the pack in her pocket, and lit it with her wand. "I hope you know I would have killed you. I don't know why it took me so long to work up the rage, but I could have killed you. I let you live for her – keep her ignorant as long as you can, and I'll know my mercy was worth it."

Severus said nothing. He merely gazed at the winking stars through the dirty window, wondering where it had all gone wrong.


End file.
